»^tHE  UNIVERS-fTY  LIBRARii 
•ffllBKTTY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  SAH  OTf 


-•ian«* — 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  SAN  DIEGO 


?t 


3  1822  00257  6379 


ENGLISH    STYLE 


PUBLIC   DISCOUESE 


WITH   SPECIAL   REFERBNCK  TO 


THE   USAGES   OF   THE  PULPIT 


AUSTIN   PHELPS,  D.D. 

XATE  BABTLET  PROFESSOR  OF  SACRED   RHETORIC   IN  ANDOVBB 
THEOLOGICAL    SEMINARY 


NEW  YORK 
CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 
1915 


Copyright,  1883,  by 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

Copyright,  1911,  by 
LAWRENCE  PHELPS 


PREFACE. 


The  author  of  a  treatise  on  the  Latin  language,  pi  .  J. shed 
in  the  fifteenth  century,  commenced  his  work  with  tr^s  an- 
nouncement :  "  This  volume  contains  nothing  which  hs,s  erer 
been  said  by  any  one  else."  His  production  ought  to  have 
been  a  revelation  from  heaven.  A  treatise  on  a  language 
a  thousand  years  old  can  not  be  valuable,  and  yet  strictly 
original.  Very  similar  must  be  the  criticism  of  a  treatise 
on  English  style.  It  must  be  indebted  to  much  which  has 
preceded  it  in  literary  research.  That  which  "has  ever 
been  said  "  must  determine  largely  what  remains  to  be  said  ; 
and  that  which  remains  to  be  said  must  consist  largely  of 
variations  upon  that  which  has  been  said 

In  the  present  volume  I  have  not  scrupled  to  use  any  mate- 
rial which  has  seemed  to  me  adapted  to  my  purpose.  I  have 
appropriated  principles  of  which  no  one  knows  the  origin ; 
I  have  employed  illustrations,  some  of  which  belong  to  the 
common  stocJc  of  rhetorical  discussion ;  I  have  expressed 
opinions  of  books  and  authors,  some  of  which  I  owe  to 
experts  whom  the  literary  world  honors  as  authorities.  In 
exercising  this  liberty,  I  have  availed  myself  of  all  the  stand- 
ard treatises  on  grammar,  on  the  English  language,  on 
English  literature,  and  on  other  national  literatures,  which 
have  been  within  my  reach.     To  name  them  even  vould  be 

iii 


IV  PREFACE. 

in  part  commonplace,  and  in  part  pedantic.     The  most  com 
mou,  as  well  as  the  most  rare  resources  of  knowledge  must 
be  employed  to  construct  a  treatise  on  the  subject  here  dis- 
cusse<l,  which  shall  be  of  any  considerable  use  to  the  class 
of  minds  which  I  have  addressed. 

The  fact  should  specially  be  borne  in  mind,  that  these 
Lectures  do  not  profess  to  be  an  exhaustive  discuss,  on  of 
English  style  as  it  exists  historically  in  English  literature. 
They  have  been  delivered  in  a  professional  seminary,  chiefly 
with  professional  aims.  The  clergy  have  been  my  auditors. 
Clerical  necessities  and  clerical  usages  have  suggested  my 
plan  and  its  details.  I  have  endeavored  to  meet  what  I 
have  found  to  be  the  actual  state  of  culture,  on  the  subject 
of  my  instructions,  among  theological  students  the  large 
majority  of  whom  have  been  graduates  of  American  colleges. 
The  chief  features  of  that  culture  have  been  a  limited  knowl- 
edge of  English  literature,  a  more  limited  acquaintance 
with  the  philosophy  of  language,  a  still  more  partial  famil- 
iarity with  the  English  pulpit,  and  rather  crude  opinions, 
with  some  degree  of  indifference,  on  the  whole  subject  of  the 
style  of  the  pulpit.  I  have  spoken  to  educated  men,  but  to 
men  whose  minds,  on  the  subject  in  hand,  have  been  drift- 
ing without  knowing  whither  or  why. 

Discussions  adjusted  to  the  purest  science  of  language,  or 
to  the  highest  range  of  literary  culture,  would  have  been  just 
those  which  would  not  have  benefited  my  hearers.  Those 
who  know  the  curriculum  common  to  American  colleges,  in 
respect  to  English  grammar,  the  English  language,  and  the 
English  literature,  will  understand  the  necessity  of  a  great 
deal  of  elementary  instruction  in  Lectures  on  English  Style, 
addressed  to  students  who  have  but  recently  finished  theii 


PREFACE.  T 

collegiate  studies.  If  the  contents  of  this  volume  meet  in 
any  considerable  degree  the  wants  of  this  class  of  minds, 
in  anticipation  of  the  work  of  the  pulpit,  and  serve  to  expe- 
dite their  English  culture,  and  diminish  the  inevitable  waste 
of  their  early  years  of  professional  service  by  helping  them 
to  begin  it  with  a  scholarly  ideal,  my  chief  object  will  be 
gained. 

Yet  it  is  impossible  to  speak  to  such  hearers  on  such 
themes  without  saying  much  which  is  equally  pertinent  to 
other  minds  possessed  of  scholarly  tastes,  and  engaged  in 
intellectual  occupations.  All  the  liberal  professions  are  a 
kindred  group.  Literary  avocations  inevitably  lap  over  and 
interpenetrate  each  other.  It  wUl  be  found,  therefore,  that 
this  volume  contains  material  of  interest  to  other  than  the 
professional  hearers  to  whom  it  has  been  addressed.  As 
clergymen  find  their  culture  expanded  and  enriched  by  the 
study  of  law,  and  by  intercourse  with  men  of  the  legal  pro- 
fession, so  lawyers  and  journalists,  and  other  literary  men, 
may  find  a  similar  improvement  of  their  resources  from  a 
study  of  the  literature  of  the  pulpit,  and  from  works  de- 
signed for  the  professional  training  of  preachers. 

But  works  of  this  class  often  suffer  from  a  superficial  criti- 
cism. Of  what  use,  it  is  often  asked,  can  it  be  to  attempt 
to  systematize  the  theory  of  a  practical  business  like  that  of 
public  discourse  ?  Who  cares  for  such  a  system  in  the  con- 
struction of  a  discourse  ?  Who  can  think  of  it  in  the  act  of 
discoursing?  A  man  can  not  walk  on  eggs  without  breaking 
them.  So  a  man  can  not  write  or  speak  on  a  business  of 
practical  life,  surrounded  and  hedged  in  by  the  niceties  of 
rhetorical  criticism,  without  thrusting  them  out  of  his  way 
in  the  impatient  freedom  of  speaking  his  mind       To  this 


VI  PREFACE. 

style  of  objection  it  must  be  con(!eded,  in  reply,  that,  beyond 
all  question,  that  criticism  which  is  really  valuable  to  young 
writers  or  speakers  is  a  miscellaneous  matter.  It  must  con- 
sist of  a  vast  amount  of  miscellaneous  suggestion,  touching 
here  and  probing  there  the  actual  faults  in  composition,  of 
those  to  whom  it  is  addressed.  It  is  the  proper  work  of  the 
lecture-room  and  of  colloquial  intdrcourse.  In  its  best  estate 
it  is  suggested  by  a  discourse  in  hand,  prepared  for  the  pur- 
pose by  a  pupil.  Yet  this  volume  of  unwritten  criticism 
does  constitute  a  system.  The  teaching  of  an  art  creates  a 
corresponding  science.  This  is  susceptible  of  systematic 
treatment.  To  avoid  such  treatment,  in  deference  to  the 
objection  in  question,  would  reduce  it  to  a  hodge-podge  of 
literary  remark,  without  beginning  or  end  or  middle.  Some- 
thing is  needed  to  give  to  the  work  order  and  coherence. 
In  the  present  volume  I  have  sought  that  something  in  an 
analysis  of  the  fundamental  qualities  of  style.  Under  each 
of  these  are  arranged  the  practical  suggestions  relevant  to 
it,  and  valuable  to  the  literary  or  professional  reader.  Such 
an  attempt  at  systematic  order  is  practically  pertinent,  even 
if  it  is  no  more  than  the  string  to  a  row  of  beads. 

In  this,  as  in  former  volumes,  I  have  retained  the  style 
and  forms  of  the  lecture-room.  In  doing  so,  I  have  in- 
dulged the  liberty  of  the  lecture-room  in  pursuing  discussion 
beyond  the  strict  limits  of  the  topic  in  hand,  into  related 
topics,  by  means  of  excursus.  These,  though  not  numerous, 
have  led  me,  as  I  am  well  aware,  into  trains  of  thought 
which  seem  but  remotely  connected  with  the  main  subject ; 
yet  not  so,  as  the  subject,  with  its  professional  bearings,  lay 
in  the  minds  of  my  hearers. 


TABLE  OF  CONTIINTS. 


LECTURE  I. 

PASFH 

Inlroduction.  —  Style  defined;  its  Nomeuclatiu'e ;  Classification  of 
Qualities.  —  Purity  of  Style;  its  Definition;  its  Standards. — 
Restrictions  upon  Usage.  —  National  Authority.  —  Present 
Authority.  —  Reputable  Authority 1 

LECTURE  II. 

Purity  of  Style,  continued;  its  Violations,  by  the  Use  of  the  Obso- 
lete. —  "When  do  Words  become  obsolete?  —  Obsolescent  Words. 

—  The  Obsolete  in  Poetry,  in  Prayer,  in  Homiletic  Appeals. — 
Novelties  in  Style.  —  Excursus  on  English  Dictionaries.  —  New 
Words  coined  facetiously.  —  Compound  Words.  —  New  Coin- 
age in  the  Pulpit        .....  19 

LECTURE   III. 

Purity  of  Style,  continued.  —  New  Coinage  a  Necessity.  —  Princi- 
ples which  should  regulate  it.  —  Importations  from  Foreign 
Languages;  often  caused  by  Pedantry,  by  Undue  Regard  for 
Etymology.  —  The  Composite  Structure  of  the  English  Tongue. 

—  Provincialisms;  when  Good  English.  —  Technical  and  Clan- 
nish Words;  the  Style  of  the  Pulpit  infected  by  them.  —  The 
Puritan  Dialect.  —  The  Necessity  of  some  Technicalities. — 
Vulgarisms .  .34 

LECTURE   IV. 

Purity  of  Style,  continued;  Reasons  for  its  Cultivation.  —  Testi- 
mony of  Literary  Authority.  —  Tributary  to  Perspicuity;  to 
Force.  —  Superiority  of  Pure  English  for  Religious  Discourse. 

—  Excursus  on  the  Destiny  of  the  English  Language  .      5C 

LECTURE  V. 

Purity  of  Style,  concluded;  Reasons  for  cultivating  it,  continued. 

—  Danger  that  the  English  Language  will  be  corrupted  in  this 
Country,  by  Republican  Influence,  by  Extent  of  Territory,  by 

vil 


viii  CONTENTS. 

PAtTK 

the  Multitude  of  Emigrant  Nationalities.  —  The  Clergy  a  Stand- 
ard to  the  People.  —  A  Taste  for  Purity  of  Style  fundamental 
to  thorough  Scholarship.  —  Means  of  acquiring  Purity  of  Style. 
—  Classic  Conversation.  —  Classic  Authorship.  —  Use  of  Trea- 
tises on  Language.  —  Hahits  of  Composing 64 

LECTURE  VI. 

Precision  of  Style;  Its  Definition.  —  Its  Violations  by  the  Improper 
Use  or  Omission  of  Single  Words;  by  a  Confused  Use  of  Literal 
and  Figurative  Words;  by  confounding  Synonyms;  by  Defect 
in  the  Number  of  Words.  —  Excess  of  Conciseness.  —  Redim- 
dant  Style.  —  Looseness  in  Construction 79 

LECTURE    \ai. 

Causes  of  the  Formation  of  a  Loose  Style. — Indiscriminate  Think- 
ing. —  Chaotic  Discussion.  —  Excessive  Care  for  Expression.  — 
Favoritism  in  Taste.  —  Ekcutsus  on  the  Want  of  Command  of 
Language.  —  What  is  involved  in  Command  of  Language? — 
How  can  it  be  acquired?  —  Uncritical  Admiration  of  Loose 
Writers.  —  Indiscriminate  Dependence  on  Dictionaries.  —Dis- 
proportion in  Extemporaneous  Speaking      .  ...      99 

LECTURE  Vin. 

The  Inducements  to  the  Cultivation  of  Precision  of  Style  by  Pub- 
lic Speakers.  —  It  is  not  Pedantic  nor  Unpractical.  —  Its  Trib- 
ute to  other  Qualities,  to  Clearness,  to  Force,  to  Elegance,  to 
Ingenuousness. — Its  Independent  Virtue. — The  Popular  Taste 
for  it.  —  Figurative  Forms  of  it.  —  the  Special  Need  of  it  in 
Religious  Discourse.  —  Excursus,  the  Decline  of  Positive  Dialect 
in  the  Expression  of  Nominal  Christianity  .  ...    Ill 

LECTURE  IX. 

Perspicuity  of  Style;  its  Foundation  in  Clearness  of  Thought. — 
Obscurity  from  Absence  of  Thought;  from  Vagueness  of 
Thought;  from  the  Affectation  of  Profound  Thought;  from 
Real  Profoundness  of  Thought ;  from  Familiarity  with  Thought; 
from  Rapidity  in  the  Succession  of  Thought        ....    12S 

LECTURE  X. 

Peispictuty  of  Style  as  related  to  the  Use  of  Imagery.  —  Incongru- 
ous Imagery.  —  Mixed  Imagery.  —  Learned  Imagery.  —  Excess 
of  Imagery.  —  Absence  of  Imagery.  —  Perspicuity  as  related  to 
the  Words  of  a  Discourse. — Words  technical  to  Religious  Usage. 


CONTENTS.  a 

PASK 

— Excess  of  Words  not  Saxon. — Ambiguous  Words. — General 
and  Abstract  Words.  —  Excess  in  Number  of  Words.  —  Defi- 
ciency in  Number  of  Words     ...  ....    140 

LECTURE   XI. 

Perspicuity  of  Construction.  —  The  Arrangement  of  Pronouns  and 
their  Antecedents;  of  Adjectives  and  Adverbs;  of  Qualifying 
Clauses;  of  Emphatic  Clauses ;  of  Ellipsis;  of  Parenthesis;  of 
the  Anacoluthon ;  of  the  Combination  of  Irrelevant  Materials  .    158 

LECTURE  Xn. 

Excursus,  the  Intellectuality  of  the  Pulpit.  —  The  Principles  which 
should  regulate  it. — Its  Relation  to  the  Scriptures;  to  the  Intel- 
lectual Cravings  of  a  Christianized  People;  to  Emotional  Ex- 
citements; to  the  Popular  Desire  for  a  System  of  Faith;  to  the 
Peculiar  Awakening  of  the  Age;  to  the  Strength  of  Infidelity; 
to  External  Protective  Authority;  to  the  Intellectual  Dignity 
of  the  Work  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  —  Corollaries     .       .       .        .171 

LECTURE   Xm. 

Energy  of  Style;  its  Definition;  its  Foundation  in  Thought,  in 
Enthusiasm  of  Composition,  in  Composing  with  an  Object  in 
view.  —  Directness  of  Discourse.  —  Excursus,  What  is  the 
Philosophy  of  the  Success  of  Direct  Preaching?  — Individu- 
ality of  Moral  Influence.  —  Reputation  with  the  Public  vs. 
Power  with  Individuals .201 

LECTURE  XIV. 

Energy  of  Style  founded  in  Self-possession.  — Intemperate  Strength 
illustrated.  — Excursus  on  the  Preaching  of  Eternal  Retribution. 
—  The  Early  English  Pulpit  on  Retribution.  — The  Still  Power 
in  preaching  Retribution.  —  Elocution  in  preaching  Retribu- 
tion. —  The  Comminatory  Preaching  of  Christ.  —  Second  Excur- 
sus on  the  Use  of  the  Biblical  Emblems  of  Retribution.  —  No 
Others  true  to  the  Facts.  —  The  Need  of  them  by  Modern  Mind. 
— Not  originated  for  Transient  Use 2H 

LECTURE  XV. 

Ihird  Excursus.  —  Preaching  the  Doctrine  of  Sin.  —  The  Theory  of 
Depravity.  —  Organized  Forms  of  Sin.  —  Description  of  Indi- 
vidual Guilt. — Reproofs  of  Christian  Inconsistencies.  —  Ascetic 
Physiognom/.  —  Confessions  of  Sin.  —  Theatrical  Taste  vs. 
Chriatiaa   Experience.  —  Energy   promoted    by  Literal   and 


X  CONTENTS. 

Figurative  LanpiiaRe.  —  A  Saxon  Vocabulary.  —  Specific  Wordfl. 

—  Short  Words.  —  Onoinatopoetic  Words.  —  CoDcisenesa.  — 
Tautology.  —  Verbosencss 233 

LECTURE  XVI. 

Energy  as  promoted  by  Literal  and  Figurative  Speech,  continued. 

—  Conciseness  not  ahvaj's  Forcible.  —  Energy  of  Construction. 

—  Emphatic  ^^'ord.s  in  Empliatic  Places.  —  The  Conjunctive 
Beginning.  —  The  Periodic  Structure.  —  Energy  as  promoted  by 
Rhetorical  Figure.  —  Climax.  —  Antithesis.  —  Interrogation.  — 
Colloquy.  —  Hyperbole.  —  Irony.  —  Exclamation.  —  Vision.  — 
Apostrophe.  —  Soliloquy 252 

LECTURE  XVn. 

Elegance  of  Style  dependent  on  Delicacy  of  Thought.  —  Feminine 
Qualities  of  Truth.  —  Prejudices  against  Them.  —  Relation 
of  Elegance  to  Ornament.  —  Offenses  against  Delicacy  of 
Thought.  —  The  Chief  Means  of  cultivating  Elegance.  —  De- 
pendent on  Delicacy  of  Expression.  —  Offenses;  in  Vocabulary, 
in  Constructions,  in  Imagery.  —  Influence  of  a  Study  of  the 
Scriptures.  —  Luxuriousness  of  Taste.  —  Decline  of  National 
Literatures  ....  ....  .    274 

LECTURE  XVm. 

Elegance  of  Style  dependent  on  Vividness,  Distinctness  of 
Thought,  Sensitiveness  of  Feeling,  Originality  of  Thought, 
Simplicity  of  Language.  —  Excvrsus,  the  Style  of  Addison, 
and  his  Place  in  English  Literature.  —  Elegance  dependent  on 
Variety.  — Versatility  of  Thought.  —Variety  of  the  Scriptures. 

—  Variety  of  Construction.  —  Variety  of  Illustration  .        .        .    29* 

LECTURE  XIX. 

Variety  of  Style,  continued.  —  Variety  of  Delivery.  —  Elegance  as 
dependent  on  Harmony.  —  Truthfulness  of  Discourse.  —  Unity 
of  Discourse.  —  Fitness  of  Discourse  to  Time,  Place,  Circum- 
stance, and  Character.  —  Propriety  in  Appeals.  —  Euphony  of 
Language;  what  constitutes  it;  how  can  it  be  acquired?    .        .    311 

LECTURE  XX. 

Naturalness  of  Style;  Definition;  how  manifested  to  the  Cogni- 
zance of  Good  Taste.  —  Fitness  of  Style  to  Subject.  —  Fitness 
of  Style  to  the  Relations  Df  Hearers. —  Fitness  of  Style  to  the 
Relations  of  the  Speaker.  —  Fitness  to  Oral  Discourse. — Means 


CONTENTS.  XI 

PASX 

of  acquiring  a  Natural  Style.  —  Mastery  of  Subjects.  -  -  SeLt- 
forgetfulness  in  Composing.  —  Confidence  in  Iruth.  —  Piactice 
In  Composing 331 

APPENDIX. 
A  ( '>»taloKue  of  Word'*  »ud  PbraMB      .       .       ,  .       .        .    V3 


ENGLISH    STYLE. 


LECTURE  I. 


INTRODUCTION.  —  PURITY  OF  STYLE  DEPINBD;  ITS 
STANDARDS. 

What  is  style  ?  One  critic  answers,  "  Style  relates 
to  the  words  and  sentences  of  composition."  True : 
but  so  does  grammar ;  so  does  syntax ;  so  does  lan- 
guage. Are  these  the  synonyms  of  style?  Another 
declares,  "Style  is  that  part  of  rhetoric  which  treats 
of  the  expression  of  thought  by  language."  But  argu- 
ment does  the  same ;  grammar  also  does  the  same. 
Are  these  synonymous  with  style?  A  third  defines, 
"  Style  is  the  body  of  thought ;  '*  or,  as  Wordsworth 
puts  it,  "Style  is  the  incarnation  of  thought."  But 
this  is  description,  not  definition.  A  fourth  says,  after 
Dean  Swift,  "  Style  is  proper  words  in  proper  places." 
But  any  good  composition  is  that :  "  Paradise  Lost "  is 
that.  Have  we  no  conception  of  style,  abstract  from 
its  illustrations?  A  fifth  responds,  "Style  is  charac- 
ter." Buffon  has  it,  "  Style  is  the  man  himself."  But 
body  and  soul  are  that :  are  they  style  ?  This,  again, 
is  descriptive,  not  definitive.  Sometimes  it  is  not  true. 
The  chief  thing  which  does  not  appear  in  some  speci 
mens  of  style  is  the  person  of  the  writer-     Anonymous 


2  ENGLISH   STYLF  [lkct,  i 

authorship  might  be  well-nigh  impossible  if  style  always 
disclosed  the  writer's  individuality.  Of  acknowledged 
authorship,  are  we  not  often  obliged  to  confess,  in  read- 
ing a  book,  that  we  can  not  become  acquainted  with  the 
man  who  wrote  it?  He  remains  at  the  end  as  much  a 
stranger  to  the  reader  as  the  reader  is  to  him. 

The  cliief  difficulty  in  framing  a  definition  of  style 
is  to  distinguish  it  from  the  term  "  language."  Let  the 
followmg  be  tested  as  an  experiment :  "  Style  is  the 
general  term  by  which  we  designate  the  qualities  of 
thought  as  expressed  in  language."  The  pith  of  this 
formula  is,  that  it  builds  style  upon  thought,  not  upon 
expression  alone ;  yet  not  upon  thought  alone,  but 
upon  expression  as  well.  This  is  probably  all  that  De 
Quincey  means  when  he  calls  style  "  the  organ  of  think- 
ing." He  speaks  more  exactly  when  he  says  that  style 
may  be  viewed  as  an  organic  thing  and  as  a  mechanic 
thing,  —  "  organic,  in  so  far  as  language  is  modified  by 
thought;  mechanic,  in  so  far  as  words  modify  each 
other."  Yet  this  distinction,  in  practical  criticism  dis- 
appears. The  mechanism  of  style  is  nothing,  except 
as  it  expresses  the  underlying  organism.  We  simplify 
our  conception  of  it,  therefore,  if  we  throw  back  the 
whole  idea  of  it,  where,  in  the  last  analysis,  it  belongs, 
—  to  thought  as  the  substance  of  which  expression  is 
the  subordinate  and  ductile  form. 

Two  popular  conceptions  of  style  demand  notice, 
however,  between  which  it  vibrates.  One  is  that  of 
sophistry,  expression  used  to  mislead :  the  other  is  that 
of  ornament,  expression  used  for  display.  Both  of 
these  assume  that  style  is  all  outside.  It  is  cunning  in 
the  use  of  words.  It  is  the  dress,  the  shell,  the  husk. 
A  thought  is  a  thought,  "for  a'  that."  So  the  good 
sense  of  men  will  reason  on  any  such  theory  as  this 


LKCrr.  1.1  STYLE  DEFINED.  3 

One  writer  expresses  with  amusing  artles&ness  tlLS  de- 
grading conception  by  soberly  defining  style  to  be 
"  the  art  of  arrangement  applied  to  words."  Observe, 
it  is  an  art,  it  is  an  art  of  arrangement  only,  it  is  an 
art  applied  from  without,  it  is  concerned  with  words 
only.  Not  a  glimpse  is  visible  here  of  thought,  of 
organic  growth,  of  words  created  and  swayed  by  things. 
A  comic  song  is  a  more  respectable  product  than  such 
a  specimen  of  style.  A  "negro  melody,"  in  which 
rhythm  supplants  thought,  would  fill  such  a  formula. 
A  Cherokee  war-song  is  vastly  more  worthy  of  scholarly 
study.  If  style  be  such,  the  study  of  it  is  contemptible. 
Test  the  correctness  of  the  principle  here  advanced  by 
a  criticism  of  a  few  specimens  of  striking  composition. 
What  can  you  conceive  the  style  to  be,  as  distinct  from 
the  thought,  in  the  first  stanza  of  Wordsworth's  "  Ode 
on  Immortality  ?  " 

"  Our  birth  is  but  a  sleep  and  a  forgetting : 
The  soul  that  riseth  with  us,  our  life's  star, 
Hath  had  elsewhere  its  setting, 

And  cometh  from  afar. 
Not  in  entire  forgetfulness, 
And  not  in  utter  nakedness,  - 
But  trailing  clouds  of  glory,  do  we  come, 
From  Grod  who  is  our  home." 

This  we  call  an  imaginative,  a  figurative,  a  poetic  style. 
True :  but  divest  it  of  its  imaginative  forms,  and  yet 
express  all  the  weight  it  carries,  if  you  can.  It  is 
impossible.  The  very  measure  is  an  element  in  the 
expression  of  the  ideas.  The  thought  is  shorn  of  some- 
what if  you  change  the  measure.  The  style  grows  to 
the  thought,  as  the  seashell  to  its  occupant.  Poetic 
rhythm  often  is  to  thought  what  the  down  is  on  the 
cheek  of  a  peach:   without  it  the  peach  is  sometliing 


4  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [leot.  l 

less.  But  admit  that  you  can  transform  poetry  to  prose, 
then  what  is  the  thought  as  distinct  from  the  prose 
style  ?  Change  the  language ;  say  something  else  than 
"  trailing  clouds  of  glory ; "  divest  tlie  style  of  figure, 
—  and  have  you  not  clipped  the  thought?  The  figure 
is  the  thought,  in  part :  every  curve,  every  indentation 
of  it,  every  vibration  of  its  winged  utterance,  is  neces- 
sary to  the  full  and  rounded  expression  of  the  idea. 

Take  an  example,  almost  at  random,  from  De  Quin- 
cey.  Speaking  of  the  state  of  English  hymnology  at 
a  certain  period,  he  calls  it  "  the  howling  wilderness  of 
Psalmody."  —  "  Ah !  "  says  a  pedestrian  critic,  "  that  is 
rhetoric."  Very  well :  strip  it  of  its  "  rhetoric,"  and 
yet  express  the  same  idea  in  its  plenitude,  if  you  can. 
It  is  impossible.  You  can  not  drop  that  figure,  and  yet 
express  the  same  kind  and  the  same  volume  of  thought. 
If  any  one  thinks  he  can,  we  are  very  safe  in  respond- 
ing, "  Try  it."  A  piece  of  Russian  iron  is  not  the  same 
thing  when  melted  and  compacted  and  molded  into 
a  slug. 

Analyze  a  fragment  from  Ruskin,  whose  style  is  often 
thought  personified.  He  wishes  to  express  vividly  the 
idea  that  feebleness  in  art  is  untruthfulness  in  effect. 
He  writes,  therefore,  of  the  "  struggling  caricature  of 
the  meaner  mind,  which  heaps  its  foreground  with  col- 
lossal  columns,  and  heaves  impossible  mountains  into 
the  encumbered  sky."  Ruskin  here  unconsciously  imi- 
tates his  thought  by  his  vocabulary  and  syntax.  Strip 
it  of  that  imitation  of  sense  by  sound  and  structure, 
and  what  have  you  left?  Say  something  else  than 
"  heaves  impossible  mountains  into  the  encumbered 
sky."  Say  this,  at  a  venture,  "  A  poor  artist  paints 
mountains  which  could  never  have  existed,  in  a  sky 
which  can  not  conveniently  hold  them."     Have  you 


MOT.  I.]  STYI.E   IS   THOUGHT.  6 

parted  with  no  thought  in  losing  the  imitative  adroit- 
ness of  Ruskin's  style  ?  In  such  examples  thought  so 
masters  expression,  and  yokes  it  to  use,  that  style  itself 
becomes  thought.  You  can  not  separate  them  by  the 
change  of  so  much  as  a  syllable  without  loss. 

The  Lord's  Prayer  is,  perhaps,  the  simplest  form  of 
speech  in  any  language.  We  teach  it  to  children.  We 
use  it  in  the  precative  mood,  which,  of  all  moods,  is  the 
least  friendly  to  artifice.  Here,  then,  if  anywhere,  mere 
forms  of  speech  might  be  supposed  to  be  interchangeable, 
and  therefore  the  choice  of  forms  of  no  moment.  But 
change  the  style  of  the  Lord's  Prayer,  and  yet  express 
all  the  thought,  with  all  its  suggested  and  related  ideas, 
if  you  can.  You  can  not  do  it.  Even  translation  does 
affect  this  most  perfect  original  of  the  precative  style. 
It  is  not  equal  to  itself  in  all  languages. 

The  principle,  then,  holds  good  everywhere  ;  and,  the 
more  perfect  the  style,  the  more  absolute  is  the  princi- 
ple. Style  is  thought.  Qualities  of  style  are  qualities 
of  thought.  Forms  of  style  are  thought  in  form.  In 
every  specimen  of  perfect  style  this  principle  tolerat(\s 
no  question  of  its  authority.  Not-  only  is  thought  pr.'- 
mary,  and  expression  secondary :  thought  is  absolute 
it  is  imperial.  Expression  as  an  independent  entity'  is 
words  without  sense.  This  principle  is  the  corner-stone 
of  all  manly  criticism  in  literature.  Every  possible  ex- 
cellence in  style  grows  out  of  it :  every  possible  defect 
grows  out  of  the  neglect  or  denial  of  it.  A  writer  of 
superior  mental  force,  starting  with  this  principle  alone, 
might,  in  time,  work  his  way,  by  the  sheer  force  of  origi- 
nal thinking,  to  supreme  perfection  in  literary  expres- 
sion. Yet,  starting  without  it,  a  lifetime  of  criticism 
and  experiment  could  not  create  a  style  of  tolerable 
quality. 


6  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lkct.  i 

Another  preliminary  to  our  discussion  is  the  nomerb 
dature  used  in  the  criticism  of  style.  This  should  be 
noticed  for  the  sake  of  three  things.  One  is  the  fact, 
that  some  of  the  terms  used  in  criticism  are  ambiguous, 
and  should,  if  possible,  be  avoided ;  thus,  a  "  plain  " 
style.  "What  is  it  ?  It  may  be  an  unadorned  style : 
it  may  also  be  a  perspicuous  style.  Another  fact  is, 
that  some  of  the  terms  used  are  substantial  synonyms. 
"Energy,"  "strength."  "force,"  "vigor,"  are  all  used 
to  express  one  quality.  A  third  fact  is,  that,  of  the 
multitude  of  terms  employed,  but  few  express  funda- 
mental qualities.  We  speak,  for  example,  of  "  concise- 
ness "  of  style.  Dr.  Whately  very  properly  considers 
this  not  a  fundamental  quality,  but  a  tributary  to 
energy. 

An  important  preliminary,  therefore,  is  the  classifica- 
tion of  the  fundamental  qualities  of  style.  Four  dis- 
tinct things  lie  at  the  basis  of  these  qualities.  These 
are  thought,  language,  the  speaker,  and  the  hearer.  Out 
of  the  relations  of  these  four  things  the  fundamental 
qualities  of  a  good  style  grow. 

Out  of  the  relations  of  thought  to  language  grow 
Purity  and  Precision.  Purity  comprises  all  those  quali- 
ties which  grow  out  of  the  laws  of  grammar.  A  good 
style  is  conformed  to  certain  laws  of  language  which 
are  expressed  in  grammar.  Precision  includes  all  that 
is  essential  to  the  expression  of  no  more,  no  less,  and 
no  other,  than  the  meaning  which  the  writer  purposes 
to  express. 

One  quality  fundamental  to  a  good  style  grows  out 
of  the  relation  of  thought  and  language  to  the  writer 
or  speaker.  We  term  it  Individuality.  It  is  that  qual- 
ity by  which  the  speaker  diffuses  himself  through  his 
style ;   not  merely  that  by  which  he  impress'js  hiraseli 


LECT.  i.J  STSXE   ANALYZED.  7 

upon  his  style,  but  that  by  which  he  lives  and  breathes 
\\ithin  and  throughout  its  every  variation  and  sinuosity 
of  expression.  It  is  that  which  Buffon  had  in  mind 
when  he  said,  "Style  is  the  man  himself,"  and  which 
others  have  meant  by  saying  that  "  style  is  character." 

Out  of  the  relations  of  thought  and  language,  and  the 
speaker  to  the  hearer,  grow  three  qualities  of  a  good 
style.  They  are  perspicuity,  energy,  and  elegance. 
Perspicuity  expresses  the  clearness  of  the  thought  to 
the  perceptions  of  the  hearer.  Energy  expresses  the 
force  of  the  thought  to  the  sensibilities  of  the  hearer. 
Elegance  expresses  the  beauty  of  the  thought  to  the 
taste  of  the  hearer.  All  these  are  relative  to  the  cul- 
ture of  the  hearer. 

One  quality  remains.  It  results  from  a  fit  selection 
and  a  due  proportioning  of  the  qualities  already  named. 
It  is  Naturalness  of  style.  It  is  that  quality  by  which 
thought,  as  expressed  in  language,  appeals  to  the  sense 
of  fitness  in  the  hearer. 

These  seven  qualities,  and  only  these,  I  find  to  be 
fundamental  in  the  criticism  of  style.  All  other  quali- 
ties naturally  fall  into  the  rank  of  tributaries  to  these. 
These  will  therefore  constitute  the  themes  in  the  ensuing 
Lectures,  but  with  one  exception ;  viz..  that  of  Individu- 
ality of  style. 

At  the  first  view  it  may  seem  unreasonable  to  make 
this  omission ;  but  I  make  it  deliberately,  after  vain  at- 
tempts to  discuss  this  quality  in  a  manner  fitted  to  the 
practical  uses  of  a  public  speaker.  As  a  subject  of 
theoretic  criticism  only,  it  can  be  discussed,  of  course, 
ad  libitum  ;  but,  as  a  subject  of  practical  use,  I  am  con- 
fident that  prolonged  study  will  convince  any  discern- 
ing critic  that  it  is  not  a  propv.^r  theme  of  critical 
research.     The  more  sedulously  a  speaker  studies  and 


8  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [leot.  l 

strives  to  gain  it,  tlie  less  will  he  have  of  it.  He  must 
be  a  man  of  rare  genius  if  he  does  not  fall  mto  servi- 
tude to  some  counterfeit  of  it. 

When  a  man  sits  for  his  portrait,  the  surest  way  of 
securing  upon  the  canvas  another  man,  not  him,  is  that 
he  should  set  himself  to  work  profoundly  thinking  of 
himself, — how  he  looks:  are  his  eyes  upon  the  right 
point  of  the  compass?  is  his  mouth  closed  with  the 
proper  degree  of  compression?  are  wrinkles  visible  in 
his  forehead  ?  is  the  head  poised  at  the  right  angle  ?  do 
the  arms  hang  limp,  or  stiff?  and  so  on.  The  more  he 
thinks  thus  of  himself,  the  less  will  he  he  himself  on 
the  canvas.  He  can  defeat  the  genius  of  a  prince  of 
artists,  solely  by  the  conscious  intentness  of  his  own 
mind  upon  his  body.  Many  of  the  most  perfect  like- 
nesses are  taken  without  the  knowledge  of  the  subjects 
of  them.  Portraits  of  artists  painted  by  themselves  are 
never  their  best  work.  The  gallery  of  such  portraits 
in  Florence  is  justly  criticised  by  Hawthorne  as  abound- 
ing with  autobiographic  peculiarities  which  in  perfect 
likenesses  would  be  invisible.  To  be  himself  in  any 
thing,  a  man  must  not  think  of  being  it.  An  English 
oflScer  said  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  that  he  did  not 
write  as  well  after  the  battle  of  Waterloo  as  before ; 
because  he  knew  that  whatever  he  wrote  would  be 
printed,  and  he  wrote  thinking  how  it  would  look  in 
print. 

The  principle  illustrated  in  these  examples  governs 
the  art  of  acquiring  individuality  of  style.  A  speaker 
can  not  impress  his  own  individuality  upon  his  dis- 
course consciously.  He  can  not,  therefore,  study  this 
quality  successfully  for  any  practical  uses.  As  a  theme 
of  rhetorical  science,  with  frequent  incursions  into  psy- 
ch(  logical  science,  it  ca  n  be  studied ;  but,  as  a  theme 


LKOT.  1.]  PURITY   OF   ENGLISH   STYLE.  9 

of  practical  criticism  for  uses  in  public  speech,  (ihe  less 
a  man  knows  of  it  the  better.  It  is  a  quality  which 
must  come  unbidden,  as  happiness  does  to  the  uncon- 
scious recipient:  it  can  not  be  produced  by  force  of 
will,  nor  acquired  by  studious  discipline.  It  does  not 
fall,  therefore,  within  the  scope  of  these  Lectures  any 
further  than  to  be  recognized  in  the  critical  analysis 
of  style. 

PURITY  OP  ENGLISH  STYLE. 

Of  those  fundamental  qualities  of  style  which  admit 
of  critical  study  for  the  practical  uses  of  the  pulpit,  the 
first  in  order  is  that  of  Purity. 

I.  This  may  be  more  specifically  defined  by  several 
memoranda,  of  which  the  first  is,  that  it  relates  to 
three  things ;  viz.,  the  form  of  words,  the  construction 
of  words  in  continuous  discourse,  and  the  meaning  of 
words  and  phrases.  The  second,  therefore,  is,  that  it 
requires  three  things ;  viz.,  that  the  words  used  should 
belong  to  the  English  language,  that  the  construction 
be  accordant  with  English  idiom,  and  that  words  and 
phrases  be  employed  in  the  sense.s  recognized  by  good 
English  authority.  The  third  is,  that  therefore  the  vio- 
lations of  English  purity  are  offenses  against  the  three 
departments  of  scientific  grammar.  In  the  form  of  a 
word,  a  violation  of  purity  is  an  offense  against  the 
laws  of  English  etymology  and  their  modifications  by 
usage.  In  the  construction  of  sentences,  a  violation  of 
purity  is  an  offense  against  English  syntax.  In  the 
meaning  of  words  or  phrases,  a  violation  of  purity  is  an 
offense  against  the  authority  of  lexicography.  The 
fourth  is,  that  the  names  given  to  the  chief  violations 
of  purity  are  three.  In  the  forms  of  words,  a  violation 
of  purity  is  a  barbarism  :  in  the  constructions,  a  vio- 


10  KNCn.lSlI    STYLE.  [lect.  i 

lation  of  purity  is  a  solecism ;  in  the  meanings  of 
words  and  phrases,  a  violation  of  purity  is  an  imp  o- 
priety. 

II.  A  further  topic  fundamental  to  the  subject  is  the 
inquiry,  What  is  the  standard  of  English  purity  of 
style?  The  history  of  this  question  in  the  rhetorical 
literature  of  the  language  discloses  but  two  opinions 
which  deserve  debate.  You  will  readily  recall  them  from 
your  collegiate  text-books.  They  may  be  represented 
by  the  formula,  "  Usage  versus  Laws  of  Language.' 
One  opinion  gives  the  ascendency  to  usage,  the  other 
to  the  laws  of  the  language,  as  the  ultimate  authority. 
One  class  of  writers  adopt  an  extreme  utilitarianism, 
saying,  "  If  a  man  makes  himself  understood  by  those 
who  use  the  language,  why  should  he  care  for  a  pure 
style  beyond  that  ?  "  This  is  the  one  extreme.  At  the 
opposite  extreme  are  the  "  Purists."  They  hold  in 
theory,  that,  be  the  usage  of  a  people  what  it  may,  the 
laws  of  a  language  must  be  authoritative  to  scholars. 
Purists  in  the  use  of  language  have  existed  in  every 
country  which  has  had  a  literature.  In  the  first  half  of 
the  sixteenth  century,  Italian  scholars  would  employ 
none  but  the  purest  Augustan  Latin.  Erasmus  con- 
tended, that  the  true  rule  for  a  scholarly  author  was  to 
write  as  Cicero  would  have  written  if  he  had  lived 
to  modern  times.  He  rejected  as  unscholarly  all  the 
languages  of  modern  Europe.  It  was  one  of  his  chief 
objections  to  the  Reformation,  that  it  employed  the 
language  of  the  German  people.  The  principles  of 
Luther  he  approved,  but  he  could  not  admit  that  Chris- 
tianity could  ever  outgrow  the  Latin  tongue.  His  life 
was  a  sacrifice  of  the  Christian  religion  to  the  conserva- 
tism of  literature.  All  the  modern  languages  of  Europe 
had  a  similar  conflict  with  the  ancient  classic  Latin, 


i^ar.  I.]  STANDARDS   OF  ENGLISH  PURITY.  11 

The  action  was,  "The  Aristocracy  of  Learning  versus 
the  Democracy  of  Usage."  Usage  triumphed,  and  forced 
new  languages  into  being.  The  conclusion  was  fore- 
gone from  the  beginning. 

The  history  of  this  conflict  of  opinion  seems  to  indi 
cate  the  true  theory  on  the  subject  in  two  principles 
which  practically  qualify  and  limit  each  other.  One  ia. 
that  the  laws  of  a  language  are  the  proximate  standard 
of  purity.  A  language  is  the  production  of  the  national 
mind.  In  it  the  national  mind  has  expressed  its  uncon- 
scious will.  Like  every  other  national  growth,  it  is  a 
thing  of  law.  If  exposed  to  the  inroad  of  alien  or 
mongrel  words,  or  barbarous  idioms,  the  interests  of 
culture  require,  that,  if  possible,  it  should  be  protected 
by  appeal  to  its  inherent  laws.  A  violation  of  those 
laws  is  to  scholarly  taste  an  evil.  It  is  an  excrescence 
on  the  national  tongue,  to  be  excluded  if  possible ;  t(» 
be  checked  in  its  growth  if  it  can  not  be  excluded . 
to  be  often  only  tolerated  if  it  can  not  be  checked,  — 
till  the  national  usage  shall  possibly  right  itself,  and  go 
back  to  the  purer  forms  of  speech. 

But  another  principle  qualifiea  and  controls  this :  it 
is,  that  usage  must  be  the  ultimate  standard  of  purity 
Recognizing  the  conservative  authority  of  scholarly 
taste  as  expressed  in  the  laws  of  the  language,  we  must 
submit  to  usage  if  that  insists  on  change.  This  princi- 
ple rests  on  several  reasons.  One  is  that  of  simple 
necessity.  A  language  is  a  nation's  property.  The 
many  make  it,  not  the  few.  If  the  many  choose  to 
change  it,  enlarge  it,  bring  importations  into  it,  even 
load  it  with  absolutely  new  creations,  how  shall  the  few 
who  object  on  grounds  of  scholarly  taste  help  them- 
selves? The  nation  retains  the  most  absolute  of  all 
rights,  —  the  right  of  creatorship.     It  is  sufficient  to  say, 


12  ENGLISH   STYLE.  lLE(rr.  i 

that  scholarly  taste  must  yield  because  it  must.  Usage 
may  be  tyraunical.  It  may  create  words  by  sheer  whim. 
It  may  indulge  a  taste  for  vulgarisms.  This  makes  no 
difference.  If  scholarly  authority  can  not  make  itself 
felt  as  a  conservative  influence,  it  has  no  power  to  act 
as  a  conservative  force. 

An  amateur  in  philological  studies  once  found,  as  he 
believed,  a  Norman  origin  for  the  word  "  quiz."  But 
Smart,  the  author  of  an  English  dictionary,  gives  to 
the  word  a  more  simple  and  probable  origin.  He  says, 
that  the  manager  of  a  theater  in  Dublin  once  passed 
an  evening  with  certain  amateurs  in  literature  ;  and  he 
staked  a  sum  of  money  on  the  proposal  that  he  would 
create  a  word  which  should  belong  to  no  language  on 
the  globe,  and  should  be  absolutely  void  of  sense,  yet 
it  should  become  the  subject  of  the  common  talk  of 
the  town  in  twenty-four  hours.  The  wager  was  ac- 
cepted. He  then  sent  his  servants  through  the  most 
densely  peopled  streets  of  the  city,  with  directions  to 
chalk  in  large  capitals  the  letters  QUIZ  on  each 
alternate  door  and  shop-window.  The  next  day  was 
Sunday.  Stores  were  closed,  and  the  throng  in  the 
streets  had  leisure  to  read  the  enigmatical  letters. 
Ever}^  one  who  saw  it  repeated  it  to  his  neighbor ;  and 
his  neighbor  responded,  "  What  does  '  quiz '  mean  ?  "  It 
had  no  meaning.  No  language  owned  it.  Scholarly  taste 
scouted  it.  Yet  everybody  laughed  at  it,  and  that  gave 
it  a  meaning.  From  that  day  to  this,  scholarship  has 
been  compelled  to  recognize  the  word,  and  to  use  it  as 
good  sound  English.  In  such  a  case  usage  declares  its 
will,  and  says  to  scholarship,  "  What  will  you  do  about 
it?" 

Further :  the  principle  before  us  rosts  on  its  useful 
ness.   Languages  need  improvement.   The  most  finished 


MOT.  I.]  GROWTH    OF   LANGUAGES  13 

languages  admit  of  improvement.  The  Greek,  the  most 
perfect  medium  of  human  speech  the  world  has  known, 
never  saw  the  time  when  it  could  not  have  been  im- 
proved. Sixty  years  ago  the  Prussian  Government 
published  a  dictionary,  to  be  used  in  the  public  servicGj 
restricted  to  words  of  strictly  national  origin  and  then 
in  use.  It  was  an  attempt,  by  authority  of  law,  to 
prevent  the  introduction  of  new  and  foreign  words.  It 
was,  by  the  nature  of  the  case,  doomed  to  failure.  A 
national  mind  grows  ;  it  accumulates  a  history  ;  new 
ideas  are  born;  new  institutions  are  created;  new  wants 
arise.  Language,  therefore,  must  grow,  to  express  these 
novel  facts.  We  must  have  new  words,  new  idioms, 
new  constructions,  new  combinations,  and  new  senses 
of  old  words. 

Specially  is  this  true  of  every  new  epoch  in  a  na- 
tion's history.  Such  events  as  the  rise  of  Greek  art, 
the  growth  of  the  Roman  Empire,  the  irruption  of  the 
northern  tribes  into  Italy,  the  rise  of  the  Papacy,  the 
Reformation,  the  French  Revolution,  the  downfall  of 
American  slavery,  either  create,  or  are  created  by, 
new  ideas,  which  exceed  the  capacities  of  language  as 
before  organized  and  fixed.  Moreover,  one  national 
mind  originates  ideas  not  original  to  another.  One 
language  also  gives  birth  to  words  more  felicitously 
expressive  than  their  synonyms  in  another  of  ideas 
common  to  both.  One,  therefore,  must  borrow  from 
another :  there  is  no  shame  in  that.  Our  English  word 
"  humbug,"  for  instance,  is  an  English  original.  I  find 
it  stated  on  good  authority,  that  it  can  not  be  reproduced 
in  one  word  in  any  other  living  tongue.  Yet  it  is  too 
valuable  a  word  to  be  excluded  from  any  language. 

In  the  French  language  a  dictionary  is  extant  con- 
taining only  the  words  born  into  the  language  since 


J  4  ENGLISH   STVTLE.  [lect.  t 

the  Kevolntiou  of  1789.  Among  the  old  books  in  tho 
r>ritish  Museum  is  found  a  dictionary,  of  which  this  is 
the  title,  "A  Dictionary  of  all  words  born  since  1640, 
in  speeches,  prayers,  and  sermons:  as  well  those  that 
signify  something  as  nothing."  These  dictionaries  were 
published  after  periods  of  popular  ferment.  The  pas 
sions  of  nations  had  been  raging.  They  had  forced 
national  growth,  and  therefore  the  expansion  of  lan- 
guages. Such  epochs  are  sure  to  create  words  which 
"  signify  something." 

It  would  be  more  than  a  work  of  literary  curiosity 
to  collate  the  new  words  to  which  the  rise  and  fall  of 
American  slavery  have  given  birth.  Even  so  unex- 
ceptional an  event  as  the  election  of  an  American 
President  may  create  a  word  which  shall  live  a  thou- 
sand years.  The  hybrid  word  "  bulldoze  "  may  prove 
to  be  an  example.  Who  knows  its  origin  ?  Who  can 
define  it  etymologically  ?  Yet  the  American  bar,  and 
the  Supreme  Court,  and  the  Congress  of  the  United 
States,  have  been  using  it  for  years  in  grave  discussions 
involving  the  purity  of  the  ballot  and  the  existence  of 
the  Republic.  It  is  doubtless  a  word  of  vulgar  origin, 
supported  by  not  a  shadow  of  scholarly  authority.  Yet 
the  critical  facts  of  our  recent  national  history  enter 
into  its  structure.  We  may  hunt  the  world  over,  and 
not  find  its  synonym.  Yet  it  may  become  a  necessity 
to  national  thought,  and  may  live  when  a  thousand 
importations  from  the  classic  languages  have  passed 
away.  It  would  not  be  unlike  the  philological  history 
of  some  other  words  if  lexicographers,  a  century  hence, 
should  trace  back  the  history  of  that  word  to  some 
learned  and  complicated  involution  with  an  Anglo- 
Saxon  or  Arabic  root. 

The  usefulness  of  a  language,  then,  necessitates  a 


LEOT.  I.]  KESTRICTIONS   UPON  USAGE.  16 

scholarly  obedience  to  usage  as  the  authority  of  last 
resort.  We  not  only  must  obey  because  we  must,  we 
must  obey  in  order  that  our  language  may  conform  to 
the  national  wants,  and  be  an  honest  expression  of  the 
national  mind. 

III.  The  foregoing  views  suggest  the  inquiry,  To 
what  restrictions  is  usage  practically  subjected  by  the 
conservative  influence  of  the  laws  of  a  language? 
Scholarly  taste  has  recognized  the  following  principles. 
I  review  them  rapidly,  because  the  standard  rhetorical 
works  have  made  them  familiar. 

In  the  first  place,  that  which  we  recognize  as  our  ulti- 
mate standard  of  purity  should  be  the  present  usage; 
not  the  usage  of  a  past  age,  not  the  possible  usage  of  a 
future  age.  The  laws  of  a  language  protect  it,  not  as 
it  was,  not  as  it  may  or  will  or  ought  to  be,  but  as  it 
is.  Conservative  presumption  always  favors  the  thing 
that  is.  The  great  majority  of  things  in  human  life 
prove  their  right  to  be  by  being. 

Again :  that  which  we  accept  as  authority  should  be 
the  national  usage.  The  laws  of  a  language  protect 
it  from  the  errors  of  foreign  usage  ;  that  is,  the  usage 
of  those  to  whom  it  is  not  vernacular.  M.  Guizot, 
for  instance,  wrote  and  spoke  the  English  language 
with  almost  the  accuracy  of  an  English  scholar;  but 
he  was  not  an  authority  on  a  question  of  English 
purity.  The  authoritative  use  is  the  vernacular  use. 
The  laws  of  a  language  also  prescribe  the  national 
usage  as  distinct  from  any  sectional  use.  The  English- 
speaking  world  abounds  with  provincialisms.  Scotti 
cisms,  Americanisms,  Irish  idioms,  Australian  patois, 
the  Chinook  dialect  of  Oregon,  are  no  part  of  the  Eng- 
lish  language,  because  they  have  not  the  stamp  of  uni- 
versal use.     The  laws  of  a  language  further  support  the 


16  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  i 

national  usage  as  distinct  from  clannish  use.  Why  is 
not  the  lingo  of  the  forecastle  puie  English?  Why  not 
the  jargon  of  the  thieves  of  London?  Why  not  the 
cant  of  religious  enthusiasts?  Why  not  the  slang  of 
American  colleges?  Because  these  are  clannish.  No 
national  authority  supports  them. 

The  third  restriction  which  the  laws  of  a  language 
lay  upon  the  usage  to  which  we  appeal  for  our  au- 
thority is,  that  it  shall  be  reputable  usage.  This  prin- 
ciple grows  out  of  the  obvious  and  necessary  difference 
between  the  colloquial  use  of  the  language  by  all  class- 
es, and  the  use  of  it  in  continuous  discourse  by  public 
speakers  and  writers.  Every  man  who  uses  the  lan- 
guage much  in  both  these  modes  adopts  inevitably 
different  styles.  Words  and  constructions  which  con- 
versation tolerates,  perhaps  requires,  are  often  unfit  for 
discourse,  either  written  or  oral.  Not  only  the  book, 
but  the  speech,  demands  elements  of  diction  for  which 
conversation  provides  no  range. 

A  critic  in  "  Blackwood's  Magazine  "  says,  that  "  at 
the  present  day,  in  the  English  portions  of  the  world,  — 
European,  Asiatic,  Australian,  African,  and  American, 
—  all  educated  people  use  three  different  kinds  of  Eng- 
lish: old  Saxon  English  when  they  go  to  church,  or 
read  good  poetry ;  vernacular  or  colloquial  English, 
not  altogether  free  from  slang  and  vulgarity,  when  they 
talk  to  one  another  in  the  ordinary  intercourse  of  life  ; 
and  literary  English  when  they  make  speeches  or  ser- 
mons, and  ^vrite  or  read  articles  in  reviews  or  books. 
This  threefold  division  of  the  language  has  always 
existed;  though  the  great  bulk  of  the  people,  up  to 
recent  times,  may  have  only  been  familiar  with  the 
first,  with  its  limited  range  of  nouns,  verbs,  and  adjec- 
tives."     A    scholar    of   thoroughly    good    taste    must 


LKCT.  I,]  REPUTABLE   USAGE.  17 

demur  to  this  analysis  of  existing  usage  in  some  re- 
spects ;  yet  a  foundation  for  some  similar  distinction 
exists  in  the  necessities  of  the  case.  It  is  obvious,  that 
one  who  writes  or  speaks  much  in  public  must  have  a 
standard  of  pure  English  other  than  the  usage  of 
numerical  majorities.  Majorities  use  the  language  only 
colloquially.  We  are  driven  to  look  above  them  for  a 
standard  of  classic  purity.  We  find  it  in  the  usage 
of  reputable  authors. 

What  do  we  mean  by  reputable  authors  ?  We  mean 
those  authors,  who,  by  the  common  consent,  have  been 
successful  in  their  use  of  their  language.  Reputation 
proves  success ;  not  notoriety,  but  good  repute.  Lit- 
erary fame  entitles  an  author  to  rank  as  a  standard  in 
literary  style,  on  the  same  principle  on  which  fame  at 
the  bar  and  on  the  bench  renders  a  lawyer  an  authority 
to  his  profession.  Pope,  Dryden,  Macaulay,  Everett, 
Irving,  are  standards  of  pure  English,  as  Blackstone, 
Brougham,  Marshall,  Story,  are  standards  in  jurispru- 
dence. By  unwritten  common  law,  such  names  have 
the  voice  of  the  nations  behind  them,  and  speaking  in 
them.  Scholarly  taste  obliges  writers  and  public  speak 
ers  to  acknowledge  this  standard.  It  is  unscholarly 
not  i:  do  so.  Even  the  common,  uneducated  mind  has 
a  dim  sense  of  this  claim  of  pure  English  on  an  edu- 
cated speaker.  The  common  people  like  to  be  ad- 
dressed in  sound  old  English  which  has  the  centuries 
behind  it.  They  desire  it  to  be  plain,  direct,  strong, 
racy ;  but  they  never  as  a  body  desire  it  to  be  low. 
Marines  do  not  like  to  be  preached  to  in  the  dialect 
of  the  forecastle.  When  one  preacher  of  distinction 
in  our  metropolis  endeavored  to  preach  thus  on  a  man- 
of-war  in  Boston  harbor,  his  hearers  said,  when  his 
back  was  turned,  that  "  there  were  two  things  which 


18  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lkct.  i 

he  did  not  undevstand,  —  religion  and  Qavigation."  A 
rabble  in  the  street  will  often  hoot  if  they  are  addressed 
in  bad  grammar. 

Patrick  Henry  thought  to  win  the  favor  of  the  back- 
woodsmen of  Virginia  by  imitating  their  colloquia' 
dialect,  of  which  his  biographer  gives  the  following 
specimen  from  one  of  his  speeches  :  "  All  the  larnin 
upon  the  yairth  are  not  to  be  compared  with  naiteral 
pairts."  But  his  hearers,  backwoodsmen  though  they 
were,  knew  better  than  that ;  and  they  knew  that  a 
statesman  of  the  Old  Dominion  ought  to  speak  good 
English.  They  were  his  severest  critics.  The  common 
people  know  good  English  when  they  hear  it;  they 
understand  it :  men  crave  it  who  never  use  it.  In  their 
unconscious  criticism  of  a  speaker,  his  right  to  their 
hearing  depends  on  his  ability  to  say  something  worth 
their  hearing ;  and  one  of  the  first  evidences  they  look 
for  of  that  ability  is  that  he  speaks  bettei  English  than 
they  do. 


LECTURE  II. 

PURITY  OP  STYLE  CONTINUED;  ITS  VIOLATIONS. 

The  consideration  of  the  standards  of  English  purity 
in  the  last  Lecture  leads  us  to  observe,  as  the  fourth 
general  topic  of  discussion,  the  most  important  viola- 
tions of  a  pure  style.  What  are  they?  We  have  ob- 
served their  well-known  names  in  defining  this  quality; 
viz.,  the  barbarism,  the  solecism,  and  the  impropriety. 

1.  We  note  them  now  more  specifically  by  observing 
that  purity  is  violated  by  the  use  of  the  obsolete  in  lan- 
guage ;  that  is,  by  obsolete  words,  or  constructions,  or 
significations.  Present  usage  being  the  standard,  it  is 
not  sufficient,  to  authorize  the  use  of  a  word,  a  construc- 
tion, or  a  signification,  that  it  has  once  been  pure 
English.  Old  words  are  often  like  old  plows.  They 
must  give  way  if  the  national  civilization  has  outlived 
them.  Why  may  we  not  now  employ  the  words  "  per- 
adventure,"  "  forsooth,"  "  yclept,"  "  whilom  "  ?  In  Lati- 
mer's day  it  was  no  violation  of  good  taste  to  use  the 
word  "  alonely."  These  words  are  all  barbarisms  now, 
because  they  are  obsolete.  Dr.  Barrow  says,  "It  is 
our  duty  to  testify  an  affectionate  resentment  to  God.' 
"  Resentment  "  once  signified  the  act  of  acknowledging 
a  favor.  Jeremy  Taylor  says,  "  Humility  is  a  duty  in 
great  ones  no  less  than  in  idiots.''^  "  Idiot,"  in  his  day, 
meant  a  private  man  only,  retaining  the  etymological 
sense  of  the  original  Greek.     A  writer  of  the  same 

19 


20  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [lect.  ii 

period  speaks  of  Lord  Bacon  as  a  man  of  "very  wise 
prejudices^  '•  Prejudice  "  then  meant  only  a  prejudg- 
ment. "  Humility "  and  "  pusillanimity  "  were  once 
synonyms.  The  history  of  these  words  illustrates  the 
conflict  of  Christianity  with  Paganism  to  make  the 
lowly  virtues  respectable.  The  word  "  painful  "  has  a 
similar  histor3^  It  once  signified,  not  "  producing  pain," 
but  "  taking  pains."  Richard  Baxter  was  called  by  his 
contemporaries  "  a  most  painful  preacher."  Wren,  once 
Bishop  of  Ely,  was  charged  by  the  Puritans  with  "hav- 
ing banished  fifty  godly,  learned,  and  painful  preachers  " 
from  the  kingdom. 

A  singular  instance  occurs,  in  King  James's  transla- 
tion of  the  Scriptures,  of  an  idiomatic  phrase  which  was 
once  good  English,  but  which  now  needs  the  commen- 
tator's paraphrase.  St.  Paul  says,  "  I  know  nothing  by 
myself;  yet  am  I  not  hereby  justified."  The  first  of 
these  clauses  was  once  a  good  English  idiom  for  the  ex- 
pression, "  I  am  not  conscious  of  any  fault."  To-day  I  do 
not  know  that  it  exists  even  as  a  provincialism.  Some 
of  the  most  vital  words  in  theological  science  have 
undergone  changes  of  meaning.  The  interpretation  of 
ancient  creeds  often  hinges  on  questions  of  literary 
purity.  The  most  conclusive  of  historic  arguments 
against  the  recognition  of  seven  sacraments  is  found  in 
the  history  of  the  word  "  sacrament."  It  is  impossible, 
in  the  nature  of  the  case,  to  construct  a  creed  for  all 
time.  Language  is  a  fluid,  not  a  solid,  in  its  significa- 
tion. Five  hundred  years  are  long  enough  to  petrify 
any  creed  into  a  mere  historic  monument.  The  Theo- 
logical Seminary  at  Andover  is  yet  by  a  score  of  years 
within  its  first  century,  but  already  its  elaborate  creed 
needs  a  glossary. 

Several  inquiries  deserve   answer  respecting  the  ol>> 


LEOT.  n.]  OBSOLESCENT    WOilDS.  21 

solete  in  style.  When  does  a  word  becotie  obsolete? 
"  Whereof  the  memory  of  man  runneth  not  to  the  con- 
trary "  is  the  hint  given  by  Dr.  Campbell  and  others ; 
that  is,  if  a  word  has  not  been  in  current  use  within 
the  memory  of  any  man  living,  it  must  be  considered  as 
lost  to  the  living  tongue.  This  appears  reasonable  : 
scholarly  taste  has  suggested  no  better  principle. 

Should  obsolescent  words  be  retained  ?  Critics  agree, 
as  a  general  thing,  in  the  negative.  Words  usually  die, 
as  men  do,  because  of  some  infirmity.  They  are  ill 
formed,  or  difficult  of  enunciation,  or  redundant,  or 
inferior  to  their  synonyms ;  or  that  which  called  them 
into  being  has  ceased  to  be.  For  one  reason,  or  more, 
the  words  are  not  needed ;  and  the  national  mind  parts 
with  them  unconsciously.  None  but  a  decadent  people 
will  commonly  permit  a  valuable  word  to  die. 

But  exceptions  to  the  general  rule  exist,  in  which 
scholarly  effort  is  needed  to  keep  a  good  word  alive. 
When  the  loss  of  a  word  would  cause  an  obvious  dete- 
rioration of  a  language,  then  culture  should  exert  its 
influence  to  conserve  the  word.  Professor  Lowell  says, 
that  "  an  archaism  is  permissible  when  a  word  has  been 
supplanted  by  one  less  apt,  and  yet  has  not  become  un- 
intelligible." An  obsolescent  word  may  be  necessary 
to  the  precision  of  a  language.  The  word  "  concept  " 
is  an  old  English  word,  signifying,  not  the  act  of  con- 
ceiving, but  the  idea  conceived.  It  passed  out  of  use 
for  a  time  ;  and  "  conception  "  took  its  place,  and  is  now 
used  to  signify  both  the  act  and  the  thing.  But  Sir 
William  Hamilton  has  revived  the  more  ancient  word, 
because  it  adds  to  the  philosophical  precisior  of  the 
language  to  have  two  words  to  express  the  two  ideas. 

The  obsolescence  of  a  word  may  indicate  a  moral 
decay  in  the  language,  and  may  for  that  reason  be  wisely 


22  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  a 

arrested.  The  Italians  liave  permitted  the  word  virtu- 
oso to  lose  its  old  element  of  moral  virtue,  and  to  de- 
cline to  the  expression  of  a  "  connoisseur  of  art."  The 
French  have  suffered  the  word  JionnetetS  to  lose  its 
original  sense  of  "  honesty,"  and  to  descend  to  the  idea 
of  "  civility."  In  both  these  cases  the  languages  would 
have  been  the  richer  if  the  old  significations  had  been 
retained.  Milton  saved  some  words  to  our  language, 
which  in  his  day  were  obsolescent,  but  which  he  thought 
ought  not  to  die.  Missionaries  in  heathen  lands  are 
sometimes  able  to  secure  a  new  medium  of  appeal  to 
the  heathen  mind  by  resuscitating  obsolescent  words 
which  the  nations  are  losing  through  the  decay  of  their 
moral  sensibilities,  and  therefore  of  moral  ideas. 

What  principle  should  govern  the  use  of  obsolete 
words  in  poetry  ?  The  general  taste  of  scholars  makes 
an  exception  to  the  rule  in  behalf  of  obsolete  words  in 
poetic  style.  The  necessities  of  rhythm  often  require 
this.  A  reason  for  it  exists  also  in  the  nature  of  poetry. 
The  distance  of  an  object  quickens  the  play  of  the  ima- 
gination towards  it.  An  obsolete  phraseology,  there- 
fore, is  in  keeping  with  the  design  of  poetic  expression. 
The  style  of  Spenser  in  "  The  Faerie  Queene  "  is  design- 
edly archaic.  He  multiplied  obsolete  and  obsolescent 
words  purposely,  in  order  to  throw  back  the  style  into 
a  bygone  age.  Guizot  thinks  that  Shakspeare,  in  "  King 
Lear,"  intentionally  violated  grammatical  construction 
in  order  to  locate  the  drama  in  a  period  in  which  the 
language  was  in  its  infancy.  Dramatic  congruity  ad- 
mits of  this  license. 

What  principle  should  guide  us  in  the  use  of  obsolete 
words  in  prayer  ?  Prayer  in  this  respect  partakes  of 
the  nature  of  poetr3^  German  critics  have  suggested, 
that,  rhetorically  considered,  prayer  »«  poetry.     A  rev 


LKCT   n.]  THE  PUKITAN   DIALECT.  23 

erent  diction  like  the  poetic  invites  a  certain  infusion 
of  the  antique  element.  Therefore  we  retain  the  ob- 
solete termination  of  verbs  in  "th."  We  say  "maketh," 
"  believeth,"  "  saith."  This  is  not  pure  English  in  ora- 
torical style,  but  it  is  such  in  the  precative  style. 

What  principle  should  regulate  the  use  of  the  obsolete 
forms  "  thou  "  and  "  thou  art "  in  homiletic  appeals  to 
an  audience?  A  preacher  sometimes  has  occasion  to 
appeal  to  an  audience  circuitously,  not  by  direct  horta- 
tion  to  the  individual.  It  may  be  a  wise  expedient  to 
give  to  the  appeal  a  form  which  shall  affect  the  imagi- 
nation by  addressing  it  to  humanity  in  the  abstract. 
You  say,  therefore,  "  Who  art  thou,  O  man,  that  repli- 
est  against  God  ?  "  Professor  Tholuck  closes  one  of  his 
sermons  with  a  prolonged  exhortation,  which,  translated 
into  English,  has  this  form.  The  more  direct  form  of 
"  you  "  is  avoided.  This  is  obsolete  English ;  but  as  ac 
exception  to  the  general  rule,  and  as  one  variety  of  in- 
direct appeal,  it  is  permissible. 

It  is  worthy  of  notice,  that  familiarity  with  our  Eng- 
lish version  of  the  Scriptures  exposes  us  to  the  peculiar 
peril  of  using  certain  forms  of  obsolete  dialect.  Although 
no  other  volume  of  equal  antiquity  is  equally  pure  with 
the  English  Bible,  yet  some  words,  and  forms  of  words, 
which  are  found  in  it,  have  become  obsolete  since  King 
James's  day.  Preachers  may  insensibly  fall  into  an  ob 
solete  dialect  in  the  use  of  them.  The  termination  o' 
verbs  in  "  eth  "  is  the  most  notable  example.  The  Puri 
tans  yielded  so  far  to  this  tyranny  of  biblical  use  ovei 
their  homiletic  style,  that  they  have  left  us  an  inherit- 
ance, in  that  respect,  which  has  done  much  to  alienate 
men  of  culture  from  their  opinions.  Not  merely  by 
the  retention  of  obsolete  phraseology,  but  by  a  singular 
a'itempt  at  imitation  of  the  Scriptures  in  the  construe- 


24  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [usor.  n. 

tiou  of  oral  address,  they  created  a  hybrid  dialect,  which 
had  not  the  merit  of  biblical  quotation.  Macaulay  satir- 
izes this  feature  in  the  speeches  of  the  Earl  of  Crawford, 
contemporary  with  the  Puritans,  as  unnatural,  pedantic, 
and  often  ludicrous.  We  do  not  find  extreme  examples 
of  this  in  our  own  pulpits ;  but  relics  of  it  remain,  of 
sufficient  note  to  put  us  on  our  guard.  Just  so  far  as 
we  lodge  our  thoughts  in  an  obsolete  diction,  we  remove 
them  to  a  refrigerant  distance  from  the  sympathies  of 
modern  mind.  The  men  of  to-day  must  be  addressed 
in  the  speech  of  to-day.  In  giving  force  to  language, 
sympathy  is  of  more  value  than  reverence. 

Kindred  to  the  error  just  noticed  is  one  not  peculiar 
to  preachers.  It  is  that  in  which  a  writer  seeks  for  an 
obsolete  style  for  effect.  Even  when  this  is  prompted 
by  a  struggle  to  clothe  a  thought  with  power,  it  is  ob- 
jectionable. More  power  is  lost  than  gained  by  the 
expedient.  Hearers  feel  it  to  be  an  expedient,  and 
the  effect  is  to  attract  attention  to  the  style  by  distract- 
ing attention  from  the  thought.  One  often  feels  this 
defect  in  reading  certain  productions  of  De  Quincey. 
It  is  true  that  force  is  sometimes  gained  by  it,  but  it  is 
an  artificial  force.  Good  taste  approves  only  the  force 
gained  by  the  purest  and  simplest  English.  We  need 
no  other.  Ours  is  an  affluent  language.  Its  vocabu- 
lary and  constructions  now  in  good  use  are  the  most 
abundant  and  vigorous  in  the  world  for  the  popular  ex- 
pression of  the  thought  with  which  the  Christian  pulpit 
has  to  do. 

2.  Passing,  now,  from  the  consideration  of  an  obsolete 
style,  we  observe  another  class  of  violations  of  purity, 
in  the  coining  of  novelties.  Present  usage  being  our 
standard,  novel  words,  novel  constructions,  novel  sig- 
nifications, do  not  belong  to  the  language.     The  objeo* 


£,KOT.  n.]  NEW   COINAGE  IN  STYLE,  25 

tion  is  as  valid  against  a  possibly  future  use  as  against 
one  which  time  has  ejected.  A  scholarly  regard  for  Eng 
lish  purity  will  act  conservatively  against  new  coinage. 

Professor  Park  of  Andover  has  observed  that  barbar 
isms  from  new  coinage  occur  chiefly  in  three  ways,  — -  by 
the  creation  of  new  words,  by  the  enlargement  or  con- 
traction of  old  words,  and  by  the  compounding  of  old 
words.  In  an  early  edition  of  one  of  our  two  standard 
dictionaries  the  following  words  are  found :  "  unwap- 
pered,"  "  intersomnious,"  "  circumbendibus,"  "  jiggum- 
bob,"  "  solumnigate,"  "  grammatication,"  "  somniative," 
"scrimption,"  "solivagous,"  " slubberdeguUion,"  "trans- 
mogrification." These  are  absolute  creations  by  some- 
body. They  are  not  English:  they  never  have  been. 
By  what  authority  do  they  find  a  place  in  a  dictionary 
of  a  civilized  tongue  ?  Their  only  becoming  place  is 
in  that  ancient  lexicon  in  the  British  Museum  to  which 
I  have  alluded,  as  compiled,  in  part,  of  "  words  which 
signify  nothing." 

Contractions  of  old  words  appear  chiefly  in  the  form 
of  vulgarisms.  Contraction  in  speech  is  a  most  singu- 
lar development  of  the  natural  inertia  of  the  human 
mind.  Even  the  tongue,  the  most  nimble  of  human 
organs,  will  utter  only  that  which  it  must  utter.  A  syl- 
lable, a  letter,  an  accent,  which  it  can  slur,  it  will  slur. 
The  contraction  "  ain't "  for  "  isn't "  is  a  vulgarism 
which  ought  not  to  need  criticism.  Yet  "'tain't  so'* 
said  an  educated  preacher  once  in  my  hearing.  The 
safe  rule  respecting  contractions  is  never  to  use  them 
in  public  speech.  This  is  the  instinct  of  a  perfect  taste. 
It  is  said  that  Edward  Everett  never  employed  them, 
even  in  epistolary  style.  Some  critics  do  not  consider 
it  fastidious  to  avoid  them  in  colloquial  usage. 

Expansions  of  old  words  are  more  frequent  in  the 


26  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lkct.  u. 

pulpit  than  contractions.  "Preventative"  and  "inten 
sitive  "  are  examples  :  the  pure  forms  are  "  preventive  " 
and  "intensive."  Unauthorized  prefixes  and  suffixes 
create  a  multitude  of  barbarisms.  In  a  standard  diction- 
ary I  find  the  foUoAving:  "untriumph"  "uutrussed," 
"unuplifted,"  "  unworm wooded,"  "unruinable,"  "unvul- 
garized,"  "  unquarrelable,"  "  unquaker,"  "  unrenaviga- 
ble,"  all  coined,  chiefly,  by  the  unauthorized  prefix  "un" 
to  words,  which,  either  in  part  or  in  whole,  are  in  good 
use.  I  find,  also,  "  cockneyfy,"  "  dandyize,"  "  dandy- 
ling,"  "incoherentific,"  "imperiwigged,"  "  fiddlefaddler," 
"  sapientize,"  "wegotism,"  "weism,"  "  perfectionation." 
"maximize,"  "pish-pash,"  "fiddle-de-dee," most  of  which 
are  coined  by  unwarrantable  additions  to  the  end  of 
good  words.  Such  dictionaries  are  emphatically  "  dic- 
tionaries unabridged." 

EXCURSUS. 

At  this  point,  a  brief  excursus  deserves  attention,  on 
the  inquiry.  What  is  the  best  English  dictionary  for 
the  use  of  an  American  author  and  public  speaker  ?  In 
answer,  I  remark  first,  that,  in  respect  to  purity  of 
language,  no  dictionary  now  extant  can  be  accepted  as 
good  authority.  Both  our  standard  lexicons,  Webster's 
and  Worcester's,  are  helps ;  but  neither  is  a  conclusive 
authority.  Both  have,  in  their  later  editions,  been  con- 
structed on  principles  other  than  those  which  govern  a 
scholar's  vocabulary.  They  are  both  committed  to  the 
search  for  the  largest  number  of  words  in  use ;  not,  by 
any  means,  all  of  them  in  good  use.  Neither  the  schol- 
arly editors,  nor  the  enterprising  publishers,  would 
venture  to  commend  all  the  words  in  either  as  pure 
English ;  and  the  distinctions  they  make  between  words 
obsolete,  and  words  vulgar,  and  words  rare,  can  not 


i.Kcr.  II.]  ENGLISH  DICTIONARIES.  27 

always  be  depended  on.  A  scholarly  writer  is  not  safe 
in  using  every  word  which  these  dictionaries  do  not 
condemn,  or  question  in  point  of  purity.  We  greatly 
need  a  dictionary  the  equal  of  these  in  other  respects, 
and  at  the  same  time  a  perfect  standard  of  pure  Eng- 
lish. 

Again :  such  are  the  excellences  of  the  two  rival 
dictionaries  in  question,  that,  if  possible,  an  American 
scholar  should  own  and  consult  both.  They  are  invalu- 
able monuments  of  scholarly  work.  We  often  need  to 
compare  them.  When  they  differ,  it  is  for  a  reason. 
The  introductions  and  appendices  of  both  volumes 
contain  an  immense  fund  of  philological  and  historic 
literature  found  nowhere  else  in  a  form  so  compact. 
No  other  dictionary  of  the  language  equals  either  of 
them. 

Further :  if  we  must  confine  our  studies  chiefly  to  one 
dictionary,  my  judgment  gives  the  preference  to  Web- 
ster's. We  must  be  liberal  enough  to  ignore  the  rival- 
ship  of  Yale  and  Harvard  Colleges  in  the  matter.  As 
a  defining  dictionary  Webster's  is  certainly  the  superior. 
And  this  defining  quality,  it  should  be  remembered,  is 
the  chief  one  for  which  we  need  a  "dictionary.  Webster 
as  the  definer  is  undoubtedly  the  original.  He  had  a 
marvelous  power  of  exactness  and  brevity  in  analysis. 
Compare  the  earlier  with  the  later  editions  of  the  two 
dictionaries,  and  you  will  see  that  Worcester  is  the 
larger  debtor  of  the  two.  He  and  his  editors  have 
improved  his  work  by  accepting  definitions  which  were 
original  with  Webster.  Webster's  editors  have,  to  some 
extent,  used  Worcester's  work  in  the  same  way,  but  not 
so  largely. 

The  notes  on  synonyms,  also,  in  Webster's  work,  are 
superior  to  those  of  Worcester.      They  form,  in  the 


28  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  n 

aggregate,  the  most  exact  dictionary  of  eynouyms  in 
the  hmguage.  Further :  Webster's  later  editors  have, 
in  the  main,  relieved  his  work  from  the  ii  novations  in 
orthography  and  etymology  with  which  the  first  edition 
was  encumbered.  Whatever  may  be  our  personal  pref- 
erences, there  can  be  no  question,  in  my  judgment,  that 
the  present  Websterian  orthography  is  to  be  the  staua- 
ard  of  the  future  in  our  literature.  An  eminent  pub- 
lisher in  New  York  has  informed  me  that  five-sixths  of 
all  the  books  published  in  this  country  conform  now  to 
Webster's  orthography.  The  exceptions  are  confined 
chiefly  to  Boston  and  its  suburbs.  Webster's  is  the 
cosmopolitan  dictionary.  It  is  assuming  that  rank  in 
England.  Although,  in  one  respect,  I  personally  prefer 
Worcester,  yet,  acting  on  the  principles  I  have  advanced, 
of  obedience  to  usage,  I  can  no  longer  give  to  Worcester 
the  supremacy. 

The  only  point  in  which,  in  my  view,  Worcester  is 
the  superior,  is  that  of  pronunciation.  Time,  and  succes- 
sive editions  of  the  two  works,  have  jostled  them  into 
very  near  accordance  with  each  other;  so  that  they  do 
not  often  differ.  The  pronunciation  which  one  makes 
primary,  the  other  often  makes  secondary,  but  allows 
its  authority.  In  a  multitude  of  cases,  each  thus  sa- 
lutes the  scholarly  authority  of  the  other.  But,  when 
they  flatly  differ,  Worcester  commonly  appears  to  me  the 
more  correct,  because  more  exactly  conform' ng  to  the 
philosophy  and  the  history  of  the  language.  Worcester 
was  at  first  the  conservator ;  Webster,  the  reformer. 
The  reformer  often  succeeds  when  the  conservator  is 
right.  In  philology  the  presumption  is  always  on  the 
side  of  the  historic.  If  the  novelty  is  the  superior,  that 
is  to  be  proved.  Genuine  scholarship  never  vaults 
into  change  for  the  sake  of  change.     It  loves  the  old : 


tBOT.  n.]  WORDS   COINED   FACETIOUSLY.  29 

it  clings  to  the  long-tried.  Yet  often  usage  compels  a 
change ;  and,  when  this  is  true,  the  change  commonly 
favors  the  Websterian  principles. 

One  of  the  most  scholarly  helps  to  a  control  of  our 
mother-tongue  is  the  habit  of  consulting  Richardson'a 
Dictionary.  It  is  an  expensive  quarto,  in  two  volumes, 
but  a  most  valuable  addition  to  a  private  library ;  not 
chiefly  as  an  authority  for  English  purity,  but  for  the 
researches  it  contains  in  the  history  of  words.  Its  illus- 
trations of  words  by  examples  from  extant  English 
literature  are  innumerable,  and  are  so  arranged  as  to 
enable  one  to  see  the  force  of  a  word  in  its  history  from 
the  earliest  time  to  the  present.  I  have  never  marveled 
at  certain  excellences  in  the  style  of  the  Rev.  Professor 
Shedd,  since  I  learned  the  fact  of  his  early  habit  of 
reading  by  the  hour  Richardson's  Dictionary.  The 
expense  of  the  work  places  it  beyond  the  reach  of 
many.  I  can  only  say  to  every  author  and  public 
speaker,  "  Own  it  if  you  can." 

Returning  from  this  excursus  upon  dictionaries,  I  re- 
mark, that  new  words  are  sometimes  created  facetiously, 
and  yet  they  find  a  lodgment  in  the  language.  De 
Quincey  speaks  of  Suetonius,  the  story-teller  of  anti- 
quity, as  a  "  curious  collector  of  anecdotage."  Words 
originating  in  a  facetious  mood  of  authorship  or  oratory 
sometimes  have  a  vitality  to  which  no  real  worth  in 
them  should  seem  to  entitle  them.  It  is  one  of  the 
collateral  evidences  that  man  was  made  to  be  happy, 
that  the  risible  ]aculty  has  so  much  power  as  it  has  in 
public  speech.  Very  little  is  required  to  make  an  audi- 
ence laugh.  The  same  principle  it  is,  probably,  which 
gives  ready  rootage  to  words  which  are  coined  by  the 
risible  emotions.     A  multitude  of  such  words  die;  but, 


80  ENGLISH    STYLE.  [lbct.  ii 

if  they  express  any  genuine  humor,  they  huxc  peculia? 
chances  of  life. 

It  deserves  remark,  that  writers  coin  many  words,  in 
the  haste  of  composition,  by  adding  the  Greek  termina- 
tion "  ize  "  to  substantives.  A  new  verb  is  thus  created, 
which  in  not  one  case  in  a  hundred  becomes  permanent 
in  the  knguage.  "Jeopardize,"  "municipalize,"  "chart- 
ize,"  "  deputize,"  I  find  almost  at  random  in  one  vol- 
ume. Scarcely  ever  do  I  receive  a  manuscript  sermon 
in  which  I  do  not  find  one  or  more  of  these  mongrels 
with  the  Greek  tail.  In  one  sermon  I  find  eleven,  not 
one  of  good  authority. 

Good  words  compounded  by  means  of  a  hyphen  are 
another  form  of  barbarisms  from  new  coinage.  The 
pulpit,  from  time  immemorial,  has  been  in  this  respect, 
if  not  a  "den  of  thieves,"  a  nest  of  counterfeiters. 
"  Heaven-descended,"  "  soul-destroying,"  "  God-forget- 
ting," "  God-defying  "  —  but  I  should  publish  a  "  dic- 
tionary unabridged,"  if  I  should  name  all  the  counterfeit 
words  of  this  construction  for  which  the  pulpit  is  re- 
sponsible. Very  few  of  these  long-winded,  long-waisted, 
long-tongued,  long-tailed,  and  long-eared  compounds,  are 
authorized  English.  Yet  it  is  difficult  to  decide  at  a 
glance  whether  they  are  such  or  not.  Every  one  of  the 
similar  compounds  which  I  have  just  employed  to  car- 
icature them  is  found  in  use  by  the  first  class  of  English 
authors,  though  they  are  not  all  found  in  standard  dic- 
tionaries. Why  these,  and  not  others,  are  good  English, 
it  is  impossible  to  say,  except  that  such  is  the  omnipotent 
decree  of  usage. 

A  young  writer  has  no  protection  against  the  barbar- 
isms of  this  class,  unless  he  finds  it  in  his  scholarly 
Pastes  and  his  scholarly  reading.  When  cj  ce  fixed  in 
a  writer's  stvle,  they  form  one  of  the  most  debilitating 


LEcrr    II.]  EXCURSUS.  31 

features,  especially  in  the  style  of  a  public  speaker. 
The  taste  for  them  destroys  the  taste  for  monosyllabic 
words,  on  which  the  force  of  a  spoken  style  so  greatly 
depends.  A  subtle  sympathy  exists  between  these  com- 
pounds and  long,  involuted  sentences.  Be  not  deceived, 
if  occasionally  they  appear  to  strengthen  style.  In  the 
general  effect  they  dilute  and  flatten  it.  They  invite 
a  drawl  in  delivery.  They  are  a  drawl  in  expression. 
Few  forms  of  mannerism  run  to  such  extremes  as  this, 
when  once  the  scruples  of  good  taste  are  broken  down. 
Mrs.  Henry  Wood,  in  "  Roland  Yorke,"  speaks  of  the 
"not-atterapted-to-be-concealed  care."  Another  female 
author  remarks  upon  "  the-sudden-at-the-moment-though- 
from-lingering-illness-often-previously-expected  death  " 
of  one  of  her  heroines.  It  does  not  require  scholarly 
erudition  to  decide  that  such  a  tape-worm  as  this  has 
no  proper  place  above  ground.  The  taste  which  could 
tolerate  it  is  hopeless  barbarism.  The  next  phase  of 
such  culture  is  cannibalism. 

EXCURSUS. 

A  brief  excursus  deserves  attention  here  upon  cer- 
tain improprieties,  from  new  coinage,  which  have  become 
famous  in  the  history  of  theology  and  of  philosophy, 
and  which  therefore  may  find  their  way  into  the  dialect 
of  the  pulpit.  Controversy  has  created  them  in  both 
departments.  The  controversial  fever  often  burns  out 
of  a  man's  style  a  healthy  taste.  Witness  President 
Edwards's  definition  of  "  necessity."  The  "  Essay  on 
the  Will "  hinges  on  a  pure  invention  in  the  meaning 
attached  to  that  word.  Edwards's  idea  of  necessity,  as 
he  defines  it,  is  not  the  English  idea,  is  not  the  popular 
idea :  it  never  was.  It  was  not  his  own  idea  outside  of 
the  "  Essay  on  the  Will."     In  his  sermons  he  falls  back, 


32  ENGLISH   STYLE.  '     ^uKCt.  n 

as  other  men  of  sense  do,  upon  the  popular  idea.  Even 
in  the  "  Essay  on  the  Will  "  he  forgets  his  definition,  and 
in  some  sections  speaks  of  "  necessity  "  and  "  freedom  " 
as  the  common  sense  of  men  understands  them.  No 
preacher  can  accept  Edwards's  definition  of  "  neces- 
sity," and  preach  it  as  the  philosophical  basis  of  his  the- 
ology, without  lapsing  into  fatalism.  But  no  preacher 
can  preach  "necessity,"  as  Edwards  himself  preaches 
it  in  his  sermons,  without  preaching  the  freedom  of  the 
human  will  to  the  full  dictates  of  human  consciousness. 
The  most,  conclusive  answer  to  the  weak  point  in  Ed- 
wards's essay  is  the  strong  point  in  Edwards's  sermons. 

Another  instance  of  impropriet}'  from  new  coinage  is 
found  in  Dr.  Thomas  Brown's  definition  of  "  cause  "  and 
"  power."  These  are,  perhaps,  the  most  remarkable  ex- 
amples of  deceptive  definition  to  be  found  in  the  history 
of  philosophy.  The  common  mind  has  never,  for  a  day, 
in  any  language,  sanctioned  Dr.  Brown's  idea  of  the 
meaning  of  these  words.  If  we  have  not  an  intuition 
of  something  more  than  he  understands  by  "  power  "  and 
"  cause,"  it  can  not  be  proved  that  we  have  any  intui- 
tions capable  of  expression  in  human  language.  The 
whole  system  of  Dr.  Brown's  philosophy  proceeds  upon 
a  philosophical  invention  of  a  new  and  unauthorized  use 
of  language. 

Still  another  example  of  impropriety  from  new  coin- 
age is  the  theological  use,  by  many  of  the  schoolmen, 
of  the  words  "  guilt  *'  and  "  punishment."  It  can  not 
be  proved  (at  least,  it  never  has  been  proved)  that  the 
popular  use  of  any  language  to  which  the  Christian 
theology  is  known  has  ever  sanctioned  the  theological 
use  of  these  terms,  as  signifj- ing  only  the  "  liability  to 
suffering,"  and  the  "  endurance  of  suffering,"  as  a  conse- 
quence of  sin.     The  popular  mind  has  always  attached 


LBCT.  II.]  SCHOLASTIC   THEOLOGY.  33 

to  these  words  a  moral  idea.  Guilt  involves  peisonal 
desert  of  suffering:  punishment  involves  the  penal 
infliction  of  suffering  upon  ill  desert.  Liability  to  suf- 
fering for  the  sin  of  another  is  not  guilt :  endurance  of 
suffering  for  another's  sin  is  not  punishment.  To  say- 
that  Christ  was  punished  for  the  sins  of  men  is  to  say 
Ihat  he  deserved  to  suffer  for  those  sins.  To  say  that 
nen  are  guilty  of  Adam's  sin  is  to  say  that  they  com- 
nitted  that  sin.  The  Turretinian  doctrine  of  the  per- 
sonal existence  of  the  race  in  Adam,  below  the  depths 
of  individual  consciousness,  and  back  of  the  inventory 
of  human  memory,  is  the  only  theory  of  original  sin 
which  justifies  such  a  use  of  language.  But  the  human 
consciousness  gives  no  such  testimony,  and  therefore 
popular  usage  supports  no  such  use  of  words.  Be  it 
one  thing  or  another  to  scholastic  theology,  it  is  of  no 
use  to  the  pulpit ;  because  it  conveys  no  sense  to  the 
popular  mind,  to  which  conscience  can  respond. 

That  is  one  of  the  forms  of  historic  theology,  vener- 
able as  a  fossil,  which  can  not  be  preached.  It  never 
has  been  preached  intelligibly,  and  with  popular  assent, 
to  the  common  mind.  The  very  dialect  which  expresses 
it  is  as  pure  an  invention  as  that  of  alchemy  or  magic. 
The  license  which  some  writers  take  in  coining  new 
words,  and  giving  new  significations  to  words,  reminds 
one  of  the  cant  of  thieves,  and  clans  of  beggars,  in  Lon- 
don, who  have  coined  de  novo  a  dialect  of  their  own, 
chiefly  for  the  sake  of  being  able  to  communicate  with 
each  other  without  detection  by  the  police.  Unlicensed 
coining  s/iould  be  left  to  such  hands.  It  is  no  pjirt  of  a 
scholar's  work. 


LECTURE  III. 

VIOLATIONS  OF  PURITY  OF  STYLE,  CONTINUED. 

Resumng  the  discussion  of  the  new  coinage  of  words, 
we  must  observe  a  qualification  of  the  principles  already 
advanced,  in  the  fact  that  the  coinage  of  new  elements 
of  language  is  sometimes  a  necessity.  We  have  observed, 
that  the  growth  of  a  national  civilization  necessitates 
the  growth  of  its  language.  No  other  one  thing  ex- 
presses a  nation's  mind  so  exactly  as  its  language  does. 
The  growth  of  the  language  must  be,  in  part,  by  new 
coinage.  How,  then,  shall  we  judge  when  to  reject,  and 
when  to  employ,  new  words  ?  By  the  common  consent 
of  scholars  the  following  principles  are  recognized. 

One  is,  that  an  acknowledged  master  of  a  science  or 
of  literary  acquisitions  may  coin  such  new  words  as,  in 
his  judgment,  the  necessities  of  the  language  require. 
Modern  physical  science  has  received  immense  expan 
sion.  Its  nomenclature  is  almost  wholly  new,  created 
by  experts  in  the  sciences.  Even  mental  science  claims 
this  prerogative.  Coleridge  claimed  the  right,  as  an  ex- 
pert in  psychology,  to  introduce  into  our  language  the 
German  distinction  between  the  understanding  and  the 
reason.  That  use  of  these  words  is  thus  far  technical 
to  the  science  which  has  created  it.  If  philosophers 
generally  accept  it,  by  the  laws  of  good  taste  it  becomes 
authoritative  in  our  dictionaries.  Criticism  must  not 
condemn  it  as  a  novelty  or  an  importation.     Mr.  Grote, 

34 


LKCT.  in.]  AUTHORITY   FOR   NEW   WORDS.  36 

in  his  "  History  of  Greece,"  coins  the  word  "  dicast.'' 
It  means  nearly,  yet  not  exactly,  the  same  as  our  word 
"juryman."  Mr.  Grote  therefore  exercises  his  literary 
right  as  an  historian  to  import  the  word  from  the  Greek, 
which  is  its  original.  He  can  not  otherwise  express  the 
idea  without  a  cumbrous  circumlocution. 

Another  principle  which  criticism  admits  is,  that  an 
acknowledged  master  of  the  English  tongue  may  coin 
such  words  as,  in  his  judgment,  it  requires  for  its  pre- 
cision or  its  affluence  of  expression.  Scholarly  taste 
allows  this  as  one  of  the  prerogatives  of  scholarly  author- 
ship. The  prerogative  is  unquestioned  in  proportion 
to  the  critical  care  of  the  author  who  claims  it.  A  new 
word  used  by  Addison,  Swift,  Macaulay,  Irving,  Everett, 
would  have  a  claim  to  recognition  which  a  word  coined 
by  Carlyle  would  not  have.  The  writers  first  named 
are  known  to  have  been  scrupulous  in  their  use  of  good 
English,  and  no  other.  Carlyle  is  notorious  for  his  reck- 
lessness of  scholarly  taste,  neither  cherishing  it  himself, 
nor  respecting  it  in  others.  De  Quincey  advances,  as 
one  test  of  an  author's  sway  over  the  national  mind, 
how  many  original  words,  phrases,  idioms,  significations, 
does  he  succeed  in  ingrafting  upon  the  national  tongue  ? 

Another  principle  which  critics  admit  with  restric- 
tions is,  that  some  novelties  in  language  may  be  created 
by  authors  of  only  provincial  or  local  fame.  "With 
restrictions,"  I  say :  criticism  here  only  conforms  to 
facts.  The  number  of  words  thus  originated  is  incal- 
culable :  the  number  that  live  is  very  small.  It  is  the 
authors  of  inferior  power  and  repute  who  are  most  free 
in  such  coinage :  their  authority  is  in  inverse  propor- 
tion to  their  presumption.  Yet  a  small  fraction  of  the 
language  owes  its  origin  to  them.  Robert  Southey  coined 
^he  word  "  deicide."    He  gave  three  reasons  for  it ;  that 


S6  ENGLISH  STTIjB.  [lect.  m 

it  is  in  strict  analogy  with  other  words  in  good  use, — 
"  suicide,"  "  fratricide,"  "  parricide,"  "  regicide ; "  that  its 
meaning  is  obvious ;  and  that  no  other  word  in  the  lan- 
guage expresses  the  same  idea.  Very  good  reasons  these : 
it  would  be  hard  to  answer  them.  Yet  I  do  not  know 
that  the  word  has  yet  found  its  way  into  the  usage  ol 
the  first  class  of  authors. 

A  fourth  principle  is,  that  it  is  a  doubtful  experiment 
with  any  man  to  add  a  word  to  his  native  tongue.  The 
creation  of  a  word  is  a  great  assumption  over  human 
thought.  It  is  a  challenge  to  a  nation's  mind.  It  may 
be  an  assault  on  a  nation's  prejudices.  It  may  be  re- 
sisted by  the  whole  momentum  of  a  nation's  history. 
It  may  be  ejected  by  the  force  of  a  nation's  whims. 
The  chances  are  as  a  thousand  to  one  against  its  suc- 
cess. Such  a  word  may  have  every  scholarly  quality 
in  its  favor,  and  yet  it  may  die  of  sheer  neglect.  It 
dies  without  so  much  as  a  burial.  The  nation  often 
does  not  resist  it,  does  not  argue  about  it,  but  simply 
says,  "  We  do  not  want  it."  Cicero  had  no  superior  as 
an  authority  in  Roman  literature,  yet  he  failed  more 
frequently  than  he  succeeded  in  his  attempts  to  im- 
prove the  vernacular  of  his  countrymen.  The  same  is 
true  of  Milton  and  of  Coleridge,  both  of  whom  were 
students  of  the  forces  of  language,  masters  of  racy  Eng- 
lish, and  experimenters  in  the  creation  of  novel  words. 

A  fifth  principle  bearing  upon  the  subject  grows  out 
of  a  peculiarity  of  modern  literature :  it  is,  that  new 
coinage  by  journalists  should  be  accepted  with  great 
caution.  Journalists  are  a  class  of  writers  of  recent 
origin.  They  include  in  their  guild  very  many  rudely 
educated  men.  They  write  much  in  haste ;  they  write 
by  shorthand ;  they  write  often  in  a  somnolent  state,  in 
the  small  hours  of  the  morning.     The  consequence  is, 


LEOT.  ra.]  AUTHOKITY   FOR   NEW   WORDS.  37 

that  they  coin  words  recklessly.  Theirs  is  not  often 
leisurely  and  scholarly  authorship.  Very  few  of  them 
attain  to  the  first  rank  in  literature.  Where  can  be 
found  among  them  the  peer  of  Bryant?  Their  sugges- 
tions of  new  words  are  often  crude.  One  of  them,  for 
example,  proposes  the  word  "  thalagram,"  to  express  a 
message  through  the  Atlantic  cable.  He  coin;^  it  from 
Greek  originals.  But,  so  far  as  I  know,  no  second  ?vriter 
has  approved  it,  and  for  the  very  good  reason,  that 
nobody  needs  it.  Why  do  we  need  any  other  than  the 
word  "  telegram  "  ?  We  say,  "  A  telegram  from  Chica- 
go," as  we  say,  "  A  telegram  from  London."  Why  do 
we  need  a  word  to  remind  us  that  the  one  came  from 
under  the  sea,  more  than  a  word  to  remind  us  that  the 
other  came  through  a  line  of  cedar  posts  and  insulated 
wires?  Good  taste  forbids  overloading  the  language 
with  rubbish.  A  language  should  be  like  a  library,  well 
selected,  not  conglomerated.  This  new  coin,  "thala- 
gram," has  fallen  flat  on  the  national  taste,  as  it  is  to 
be  hoped  will  be  the  fate  of  the  still  more  wretched 
medley,  "  cablegram."  Two  languages  are  searched  for 
the  rubbish  which  is  patched  to  make  this  barbarism. 
The  decisive  test  of  new  coinage  in  a  language  is  the 
question  of  necessity.  Does  the  language  need  it  ?  If 
not,  no  other  reason  for  it  can  commend  it  to  good 
taste. 

A  sixth  principle  which  I  find  that  the  usage  of  good 
writers  practically  applies  to  the  subject  is,  that  authors 
of  the  first  class,  acknowledged  by  all  others  as  literary 
authorities,  may  occasionally  coin  a  word  which  they 
would  not  recommend  as  good  English,  and  would  not 
introduce  into  a  standard  dictionary  if  they  could. 
They  may  do  it  as  an  exception  to  their  general  rule. 
Thus  Coleridge  writes :  "  If  the  reader  will  pardon  au 


88  ENGLISH   STYT.E.  [i.ECi.  m 

uncouth  and  new-coined  word,  there  is,  I  should  say,  not 
seldom,  a  matter-qf-fact-ness  in  certain  poems."  Cole- 
ridge here  coins  a  word,  which,  though  he  was  very 
unequal  in  his  choice  of  English,  lie  evidently  would 
not  recommend.  He  apologizes  for  it.  He  employs  it 
exceptionally.  The  liberty  to  do  this  is  a  perilous  one  : 
a  young  writer  may  more  wisely  refrain  from  assum- 
ing it.  The  tendency  to  corruption  is  so  strong,  that 
while  one's  style  is  in  the  process  of  formation,  as  it  is 
in  the  early  years  of  one's  practice,  the  safe  course  is, 
not  to  use  any  word  which  writers  of  the  first  order 
would  not  recommend,  as  well  as  indulge  exception- 
ally. Yet  the  indulgence  in  question  must  be  named 
because  it  exists,  and  it  is  sometimes  indulged  by  the 
best  writers.  We  can  not  hope  to  enforce  a  style  which 
is  better  than  the  best. 

Professor  James  Russell  Lowell,  for  example,  is  one  of 
the  most  scholarly  critics  and  authors  in  our  language. 
A  word  coined  by  him  with  expressed  approval  would 
carry  all  the  authority  which  any  one  man's  name  can 
give  to  a  word.  But  when  he  coins,  as  he  does,  such 
words  as  "  cloudbergs  "  and  "  otherworldliness  "  and 
"  Dr.  Wattsiness,"  he  descends  from  style  to  slang.  He 
coins  them  as  an  exceptional  and  rare  indulgence.  He 
does  not  expect  to  see  them  in  the  next  edition  of 
Worcester's  Dictionary.  He  would  be  ashamed  to  see 
them  there  with  his  name  as  their  authority.  He  would 
be  the  last  man  to  authorize  such  words  by  scholarly 
criticism.  If  an  orthodox  minister  should  coin  them, 
the  author  of  the  "  Biglow  Papers  "  would  be  the  first 
to  satirize  them  as  tokens  of  the  barbarism  of  the  pul- 
pit. He  knows,  and  the  world  of  scholars  knows,  that 
his  own  scholany  reputation  will  bear  such  occasional 
departures   from   good   English,  somewhat   as   a  very 


UECT.  m.]       IMPORTATION  OP  FOREIGN   WORDS.  B9 

saintly  man  can  bear  to  be  seen  carrying  a  flaek  of 
brandy  in  the  street.  That  wliich  is  a  literary  peccadillo 
from  Professor  Lowell's  pen  may  be  unscholarly  sloven- 
liness from  the  pen  of  one  unknown  to  fame.  It  is  due 
to  fact,  I  repeat,  to  recognize  this  exceptional  license  in 
authors  of  good  repute,  because  it  is  a  fact ;  yet  we  do 
not  thereby  commend  it  as  a  rule,  nor  even  as  an  ex- 
ception.    It  exists :  that  is  all  that  we  can  say  of  it. 

3.  Similar  to  the  effect  of  unnecessary  novelties  upon 
a  pure  style  is  that  of  needless  importation  of  foreign 
contributions  to  the  language.  The  vernacular  tongue 
is  the  tongue  of  a  man  who  means  to  be  understood. 
We  commit  a  barbarism  if  we  import  a  foreign  word 
when  an  English  word  will  express  our  thought  as  well. 

It  deserves  mention,  first,  that  this  error  is  often 
caused  by  a  pedantic  attachment  to  foreign  languages. 
Professors  of  the  Greek  language  often  think  in  Greek. 
They  use  a  Greek  word,  therefore,  when  no  poverty  of 
the  English  tongue  creates  the  necessity.  In  the  seven- 
teenth century  the  taste  of  English  scholars  was  infected 
with  a  morbid  preference  for  the  Latin  language  to  their 
own.  This  led  to  the  introduction  o"f  extremely  ungainly 
words,  which  good  use  has  never  adopted.  Milton's  style 
is  defaced  by  such  words  as  "  ludibundness,"  "  subsam- 
mation,"  "  septemfluous."  Even  Milton's  authority  has 
not  forced  these  words  into  the  language :  the  national 
good  sense  has  been  too  strong  for  that.  Dr.  Samuel 
Johnson's  Latinized  style  is  one  of  the  frui  is  of  a  similar 
freak  in  the  taste  of  a  later  age.  In  him  it  manifested 
itself,  not  only  in  the  use  of  words  not  English,  but  in 
distorting  the  proportion  of  words  of  Latin  to  those  of 
Saxon  derivation,  and  in  an  imitation  of  Latin  construc- 
tion also,  which  renders  his  style  one  of  the  most  foreign 
to  the  genius  of  our  language  to  be  found  in  our  litera 


40  ENGLISH   STilLE.  [lect.  m 

ture.  Yet  his  was  a  mind  compact  with  sturdy  and 
solid  English  elements,  which  gave  to  his  literary  opin- 
ions, as  Carlyle  says,  "  a  gigantic  calmness."  They  made 
his  conversation  the  antipodes  of  his  written  style.  In 
conversation  he  was  racy,  laconic,  fleet :  in  writing  he 
was  ponderous,  lumbering,  logy.  In  conversation  he  was 
an  antelope :  in  his  books  he  was  a  whale. 

Again :  an  undue  regard  for  the  etymology  of  words 
often  leads  to  improprieties  from  foreign  importation. 
A  word  often  has  in  its  Greek  or  Latin  root  a  meaning 
which  its  English  form  has  entirely  lost.  You  find  a 
familiar  illustration  of  this  in  the  word  "prevent," 
which  King  James's  translators  of  the  Bible,  following 
the  usage  of  their  age,  have  retained  in  its  etymological 
meaning,  —  a  meaning  which  later  usage  has  abandoned. 
Many  contested  passages  in  Shakspeare  depend  on  the 
question,  whether  he  adopted  the  pure  English,  or  the 
etymological  English,  of  his  times.  Meaningless  words 
become  rich  in  sense,  and  obscure  words  become  clear 
often,  in  his  plays,  by  reading  them,  not  as  modern 
English,  but  with  their  etymology  in  mind.  An  affec- 
tation of  etymological  science  is  apt  to  infect  the  style 
of  a  writer  who  reads  more  in  foreign  languages  than 
in  his  own.  De  Quincey  is  often  guilty  of  this.  It  is 
the  more  inexcusable  defect  in  a  modern  author ;  because 
he  has  what  Shakspeare  and  Milton  had  not,  —  a  ma- 
tured language  at  his  command. 

Further :  the  composite  character  of  our  English 
tongue  has  a  twofold  bearing  upon  the  question  of  ad- 
mitting importations.  Our  language  is  largely  made  up 
of  accretions  from  abroad.  It  is,  in  this  respect,  very 
unlike  the  ancient  Greek  and  Latin  languages  and  the 
modern  German.  Those  were,  to  a  great  extent,  evolved 
from  internal  reiources.    Our  own  language  grows  very 


LECT.  in.]      STRUCTURE   OF   THE   ENGLISH  TONGUE.         4J 

slowly  by  such  evolution.  Its  history  is  a  history  of 
innovations.  As  our  national  stock  is  a  composite  one, 
made  up  from  many  tributary  migrations,  so  our  lan- 
guage is  a  composite  product,  made  up  from  almost  all 
the  civilized  languages  on  the  globe.  If  we  want  a  new 
word,  we  instinctively  go  for  it  to  some  foreign  source. 
Thus  the  English  nomenclature  of  the  natural  sciences 
is  almost  wholly  Greek  and  Latin.  One  critic  contends 
that  ours  is  a  decadent  tongue,  because  it  shows  so  little 
power  of  growth  from  within.  This  composite  charac- 
ter of  our  language,  I  repeat,  has  a  twofold  bearing  on 
the  question  of  foreign  imports. 

It  should  render  our  taste  tolerant  of  such  imports, 
when  they  are  necessary  to  the  affluence  of  the  language. 
This  being  the  composite  structure  of  it,  an  importation 
from  abroad  is  a  less  evil  than  it  was  to  the  Greek  lan- 
guage of  the  Augustan  age.  It  does  less  violence  to 
the  genius  of  the  English  than  it  did  to  that  of  the 
Augustan  Greek.  Some  importations  every  language 
must  have.  Every  finished  language  has  words  for 
ideas  which  no  other  language  expresses  as  well.  We 
are  already  borrowing  some  philo'sophical  words  from 
Germany.  We  are  obliged  to  do  so,  because  we  borrow 
the  ideas  there.  Some  French  words  express  ideas  which 
no  corresponding  English  terms  express  as  well.  De 
Quincey  asks.  How  can  the  idea  of  a  "  post-office  "  be  ex- 
pressed in  Greek?  or  that  of  a  "  coquette,"  in  Hebrew? 
If  a  language  needs  the  foreign  word  to  give  utterance 
to  the  foreign  thought,  it  must  import  the  foreign  word. 
Words  are  made  for  thought,  not  thought  for  words. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  composite  structure  of 
our  language  should  make  us  intolerant  of  importations 
when  they  are  needless.  This  dependence  on  foreign 
sources  for  Unguistic  growth  is  an  evil.     Any  language 


42  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lkvt.  m 

will  be  the  more  symmetrical,  and  free  from  anomalies, 
if  developed  from  its  native  stock.  A  graft  makes  a 
guarl  in  a  tree :  so  does  an  importation  make  a  protu- 
berance in  a  language.  Let  the  natural  resources, 
therefore,  be  developed  if  they  can  be :  let  ns  take  the 
alien  tribute,  only  when  we  must.  There  was  great 
significance  in  Caesar's  rule  of  composition :  "  Always 
shun,  if  possible,  the  insolens  verhumy 

4.  Pimty  of  style  is  further  impaired  by  the  needless 
use  of  provincialisms.  National  usage  being  our  stand 
ard,  that  is  not  pure  English  which  has  only  sectional 
authority,  unless  sectional  necessities  compel  its  use. 

It  should  be  remarked,  however,  that  words  of  pro- 
vincial origin  often  become  good  English.  Such  words 
may  force  their  way  into  universal  use.  All  words  begin 
to  be  somewhere.  They  may  have  at  first  a  small  con- 
stituency. Many  of  the  most  impressive  words  in  the 
language  had  a  provincial  origin.  The  word  "  caucus  " 
is  of  American  birth :  it  was  first  used  by  old  Samuel 
Adams.  Now  no  English  dictionary  would  be  complete 
without  it. 

Further:  words  remaining  provincial  may  be  good 
English.  They  may  be  necessitated  by  provincial  pecu- 
liarities,— peculiarities  of  climate,  of  soil,  of  productions, 
of  institutions,  of  history.  Americanisms,  especially,  are 
very  numerous,  which  must  still  be  accepted  on  the  score 
of  prcvincial  necessity.  "  Senatorial,"  "  gubernatorial," 
"mileage,"  "prairie,"  "backwoods,"  "clearings,"  "pine- 
bai^ens,"  "savannas,"  "federalist,"  "nuUifiers,"  "anti- 
renters,"  "freesoilers,"  "  proslavery,"  and  many  others, 
have  been  created  by  peculiarities  in  our  provincial  soil, 
or  climate,  or  institutions,  or  history.  The  late  civil  war 
has  created  words  which  are  on  probation.  It  remains 
to  be  seen  whether  the  national  mind  will  accept  that 


LECT.  m.]      TECHNICAL   AND   CLANNISH   WOKDS.  43 

event  as  important  f  nough  to  force  into  the  language 
new  creations. 

A  remarkable  instance  of  provincial  phraseology  in 
Great  Britain,  which  has  no  lodgment  in  this  country, 
is  the  phrase  "  Hear !  hear ! "  which  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  and,  so  far  as  I  know,  nowhere  else,  has  four 
different  meanings,  depending  on  the  tones  on  which  the 
phrase  is  uttered.  A  member  of  Parliament  expresses 
by  it  assent,  or  admiration,  or  indignation,  or  derision. 
The  tones  expressive  of  these  varieties  of  emotion  are 
well-defined  and  understood  in  parliamentary  usage. 
Americans  do  not  understand  them.  Yet  such  pro- 
vincialisms, remaining  such,  are  good  English,  because 
necessary  to  the  ideas  they  carry.  Again,  the  word  is 
for  the  thought,  not  the  thought  for  the  word.  We  can 
not  afford  to  lose  a  thought  through  antipathy  to  the 
form  of  its  utterance. 

5.  Provincialisms  are  scarcely  more  destructive  to 
purity  of  style  than  the  needless  use  of  technical  and 
clannish  phraseology.  National  usage  again  being  the 
scholarly  standard,  words  peculiar  to  class,  or  science, 
or  the  professions,  are  not  good  "English  till  necessity 
has  given  them  the  right  to  be. 

Religious  writings  are  specially  exposed  to  this  class 
of  errors.  The  intensity  of  religious  thinking  and  feel- 
ing aggravates  the  peril.  Peculiarities  of  sect  are  prone 
to  express  themselves  in  bad  English.  Would  any  thing 
but  a  mania  of  conscience  ever  have  led  a  respectable 
religious  sect  to  thrust  into  modern  use  the  obsolete 
forms  "thou  "  and  "  thee,"  and  specially  the  monstrous 
anomaly  found  among  educated  persons  in  Philadelphia, 
—  "  Thee  is  "  ?  This  is  parallel  to  the  solecism  of  the 
negro  dialect,  —  "you  am."  Would  any  thing  but  the 
Puritan  type  of  religious  fervor  ever  have  created  such 


44  ENGLISH  STYLE  l«jiCT.  ui. 

long-tailed  abominations  as  "  worldly-mind-edness  "  and 
"  spiritually-mind-edness  "  ? 

The  fact  deserves  a  moment's  notice,  that  the  style  of 
the  modern  American  pulpit  has  been  infected  by  its 
inheritance  of  a  Puritan  vocabulary.  Not  all  is  true  of 
the  Puritans  in  this  respect  which  literary  criticism 
often  charges  upon  them.  The  cant  of  the  Puritans 
and  the  cant  of  literature  may  be  fairly  made  to  offset 
each  other.  The  Puritans  were  not,  as  a  class,  unschol- 
arly  men.  They  had  their  full  proportion  of  learned 
authors  and  scholarly  preachers.  At  the  outset  of  the 
Puritan  movement  in  the  Church  of  England,  there  was 
no  perceptible  peculiarity  in  the  Puritan  dialect.  The 
difference  is  very  striking  between  the  earlier  and  the 
later  Puritans.  Style  degenerated  as  controversy  be- 
came heated.  Their  ideas  were  novel.  They  were  rep- 
resentatives of  a  religious  revolution.  Their  faith  was 
scouted,  and  their  persons  insulted.  In  response,  they 
preached  their  convictions  intemperately.  Their  reli- 
gious experience  took  on  forms  antipathetic  to  the  cul- 
tured irreligion  of  their  times.  Hence  swarmed  the 
multitude  of  their  clannish  phrases.  It  is  not  strange 
that  men  who  thought,  as  they  did,  in  revolutionary 
heat,  and  felt,  as  they  did,  a  new  baptism,  as  of  fire, 
should  have  had  the  sense  of  literary  propriety  burned 
out  of  them.  Still,  our  inheritance  of  their  dialect  is 
not  a  desirable  one.  Errors  which  were  pardonable  in 
them  are  not  so  in  us  who  live  in  a  calmer  age. 

Furthermore  :  some  of  the  technical  phrases  of  the- 
ology which  we  owe  to  this  ancestral  source  are  not 
the  most  truthful  forms  of  the  ideas  they  express.  The 
phrase  "  original  sin,"  for  example,  is  one  of  the  most  un- 
fortunate products  of  sin  in  this  world.  The  popular 
mind  has  never  originated  it,  so  far  as  I  know,  in  a  ij 


I.BCT.  m.]  LIVLNG   ENGLISH.  45 

language,  nor  has  it  ever  originated  any  tiling  exactly 
corresponding  to  it.  The  phrase  always  needs  clerical 
explanation,  before  people  get  from  it  an  intelligible 
idea.  The  common  conscience,  if  unsophisticated,  never 
uses  it  in  expressing  the  consciousness  of  sin.  But  one 
man  of  all  the  human  race  ever  did  so.  He  was  a 
native  of  New  Jersey.  In  a  celebrated  case  of  ecclesi- 
astical dispute,  he  was  called  into  court  as  a  witness. 
In  response  to  the  question  of  one  of  the  counsel,  he 
testified  that  he  felt  himself  guilty  of  Adam's  sin ;  and, 
when  asked  what  was  the  evidence  of  it,  he  declared 
solemnly  that  he  "thought  he  remembered  it."  Men 
of  less  venerable  memory,  if  you  can  make  them  under- 
stand the  phrase  "  original  sin,"  will  resent  the  charge 
of  guilt  on  account  of  it  as  an  indignity  to  their  con- 
science and  an  insult  to  their  common  sense.  Such  a 
phrase  is  not  a  desirable  one  in  which  to  teach  a  vital 
doctrine  of  our  faith.  Such  technicalities  of  theology 
are  better  out  of  the  language  than  in  it.  Store  them 
in  the  history  of  theology  if  you  will,  as  phrases  by 
which  somebody  once  meant  something ;  but  the  modern 
pulpit,  which  has  to  deal  with  living  men  and  women, 
is  needlessly  encumbered  by  them.  The  pulpit  should 
specially  apply  to  them  the  next  remark,  to  which  we 
return  from  this  digression. 

When  pure  living  English  will  express  a  thought  at 
all,  it  will  do  so  better  than  any  hybrid  religious  dialect 
can  do  it  —  more  clearly,  more  exactly,  more  forcibly. 
Dr.  Chalmers  makes  the  following  entry  in  his  diary : 
"  I  feel  that  I  do  not  come  close  enough  to  the  heart 
and  the  experience  of  my  people.  I  begin  to  think  that 
the  phraseology  of  the  old  writers  must  be  given  up 
for  one  more  accommodated  to  the  present  age."  Dr. 
Thomas  Arnold,  in  the  preface  to  a  volume  of  his  ser- 


46  fcNGIilSH  STVLE.  [lect.  in 

mons,  expresses  a  similar  view :  '■'■  I  have  tried  to  write 
ill  such  a  st^'le  as  might  be  used  in  real  life,  in  serious 
conversation  with  our  friends."  This  is  an  admirable 
hint  to  a  preacher.  We  do  not  talk  to  our  friends  in 
real  life  in  a  stj-le  made  up  of  technicalities  and  cant 
phrases.  Why  should  we  preach  in  such  a  style  ?  Every 
young  preacher  should  read  John  Foster's  "  Essay  on 
the  Causes  of  the  Aversion  of  Men  of  Taste  to  Evan- 
gelical Reliorion." 

The  principle  before  us,  however,  admits  the  use  of 
religious  technicalities  when  they  are  necessary.  Some 
of  them  are  necessary.  As  natural  science  needs  its 
nomenclature,  which  is  never  heard  from  the  lips  of  the 
national  majorit}',  so  theological  science  must  have  cer- 
tain words  without  which  some  of  its  ideas  can  not  be 
well  expressed.  Again,  the  word  for  the  thought,  not 
the  thought  for  the  word.  "Regeneration,"  "conver- 
sion," "faith,"  "justification,"  "atonement,"  —  these 
words  in  religious  usage  have  significations  peculiar  to 
that  usage,  and  necessary  to  its  freedom  and  precision. 

We  have  a  striking  illustration  of  the  necessary  use 
of  technicalities  in  the  style  of  the  New  Testament. 
The  Christian  apostles  had  to  express  Christian  ideas 
in  heathen  dialects.  They  could  not  do  it  in  a  classic 
style.  The  Greek,  the  purest  and  most  finished  of  all 
living  languages,  had  been  molded  to  fit  heathen  thought, 
and  that  only.  Its  literature  was  a  heathen  literature. 
Its  vocabulary  was  expanded  onl}*  to  cover  the  wants 
of  a  heathen  civilization.  What  could  the  pioneer  apos- 
tles of  a  new  religion  do  with  it  ?  They  employed  old 
words  in  new  senses.  They  created  new  words.  By 
technical  adroitness  they  forced  into  the  old  vocabulary 
new  ideas.  A  weight  and  a  wealth  of  meaning  were 
crowded  into  the  vocabulary  of  Plato,  of  which  Plato 


tBOT.  m.]  VULGARISMS.  47 

had  no  conception.  Such  words  as  "humility,"  "peni 
tence,"  "angel,"  "martyr,"  "apostle,"  "paradise,"  "re- 
generation," all  owe  their  present  significance  to  the 
apostolic  license  in  originating  new  meanings  for  them. 
Was  it  pure  Greek  ?  No.  Was  it,  therefore,  barbarous 
Greek  ?  No.  Necessity  demanded  the  innovation,  and 
necessity  is  supreme. 

A  similar  phenomenon  occurred  centuries  later,  when 
Christian  preachers  first  preached  Christianity  in  the 
Teutonic  languages.  They  could  not  do  it  in  the  pure 
tongues  of  the  North,  any  more  than  the  apostles  had 
done  it  in  the  pure  tongues  of  the  South.  The  Scandi- 
navian dialects  could  not  express  that  which  had  been 
too  lofty  and  too  spiritual  for  the  Greek  of  Thucydides. 
Like  sensible  men,  the  preachers  of  the  new  faith  did 
the  only  thing  they  could  do.  They  used  old  words 
and  new  with  new  senses,  —  for  the  time,  technical 
senses,  —  but  which  at  length  lifted  the  languages  to 
their  own  level,  and  sent  them  upon  a  new  career  of 
development  and  enrichment. 

6.  The  most  unscholarly  violations  of  purity  consist 
of  vulgarisms.  Reputable  usage  being  our  standard, 
only  that  is  pure  style  which  has  the  authority  of  au- 
thors and  speakers  of  national  fame.  Several  things 
here  deserve  attention.  One  is,  that  the  adoption  in 
dignified  writings  of  the  usage  of  the  illiterate  is  the 
chief  source  of  corruption  to  any  language.  The  lan- 
guage of  common  life  is  full  of  slang :  nothing  controls 
it  but  the  taste  of  scholars.  It  is  intelligible,  often  for- 
cible :  its  very  vulgarity  gives  it  a  rude  strength.  A 
large  class  of  middlemen  between  the  scholars  and  the 
vulgar  do  not  know  enough,  or  do  not  care  enough, 
about  the  principles  of  taste,  to  refrain  from  slang  in 
their  own  practice.     Newspapers  constantly  seek  noto- 


18  ENGLISH   STYI.E.  [lect.  ra 

riety  hj  the  use  of  it.  A  vast  amount  of  the  facetio  is- 
ness  of  journalists  is  made  up  of  it.  It  is,  therefore,  an 
ever  open  doorway  for  the  inroad  of  corrupt  taste  into 
scholarly  usage. 

The  class  of  dignified  productions  most  seriously  im- 
periled by  temptation  to  the  use  of  vulgarisms  is  that 
of  oral  addresses.  The  pen  is  a  scholar's  instrument, 
and  often  a  scholar's  protection  from  literary  degener- 
acy. Political  speeches,  sermons,  addresses  on  festal 
occasions,  are  addressed  chiefly  to  the  illiterate.  Edu- 
cated mind  thus  seeks  intercourse  with  ignorant  mind. 
Oral  address  is  also  employed  often,  to  amuse,  to  please, 
to  influence,  on  its  own  level,  the  uneducated  mind. 
The  temptation,  therefore,  often  overpowers  scholarly 
taste,  to  use  the  dialect  of  the  masses ;  not  only  its 
pure  Saxon  elements,  than  which  the  language  contains 
nothing  better,  but  its  short-lived  and  low-lived  vulgari- 
ties as  well. 

Sir  Walter  Scott  says,  that,  early  in  life,  he  was  dis- 
gusted with  evangelical  religion  by  the  vulgarisms  of 
certain  Methodist  preachers,  who  gave  him  all  the  con- 
ceptions he  had  at  that  time  of  the  evangelical  faith. 
Who  shall  say  how  much  of  the  subsequent  irreligion 
of  Scott's  life,  his  intense  worldliness,  his  profaneness, 
his  misrepresentations  of  Puritan  character,  may  have 
been  traceable  to  that  lurch  of  liis  mind  in  the  wrong 
direction  produced  by  the  violence  done  to  his  schol- 
arly tastes  by  the  Methodist  pulpit  ?  Many  converts 
under  that  Methodist  preaching  might  not  compensate 
the  cause  of  Christ  for  the  loss  of  one  such  as  Walter 
Scott.  Imagine  that,  by  means  of  a  scholarly  pulpit, 
he  had  in  his  youth  become,  as  it  is  to  be  hoped  he  did 
become  on  his  death-bed,  a  spiritual  Christian.  What 
a  channel  might  have  been  opened  for  the  flow  of  a 


LECT.  in.]  SIR   WALTER   SCOTT.  49 

stream  of  Christian  literature  during  the  now  more 
than  sixty  years  in  which  Scott  has  been  a  power  in  the 
literature  of  the  English  tongue !  He  created  in  our 
language  the  department  of  historic  fiction.  The  scenes 
and  scenery  and  characters  he  painted  were  identified 
with  the  most  thrilling  events  in  the  Christian  history 
of  Europe.  Conceive  that  his  life's  work  had  been 
thoroughly  Christianized  in  its  spirit,  that  his  opinions 
had  been  fair  to  the  Puritan  period  in  English  history, 
that  his  heroes  and  heroines  had  been  representatives 
of  the  Christian  type  of  character,  that  the  moral  pur- 
pose of  his  productions  had  been  tributary  to  Christian 
ideas,  that  he  had  been  to  English  fiction  what  Milton 
was  to  English  poetry:  who  can  measure  the  revolu- 
tion he  might  have  wrought  in  the  interest  of  spiritual 
Christianity?  Those  Methodist  preachers  may  not 
have  achieved  so  much  by  their  whole  ministry  as  they 
might  have  done  by  the  conversion  of  that  one  man. 


LECTURE   IV. 

PUKITY  OP    STYLE,  CONTIXUED;   REASOXS   FOR  ITS  CUL- 
TIVATION. 

The  question  is  not  an  unnatur  alone,  —  probably 
every  public  speaker  asks  it  when  his  attention  is  first 
called  to  the  subject,  —  Is  the  use  of  scholarly  English 
of  sufficient  practical  value  to  repay  one  for  the  time  and 
labor  it  will  cost  to  acquire  it  and  to  make  it  habitual? 
If  I  make  myself  understood  as  a  public  speaker,  do  I 
not  accomplish  the  great  object  of  speaking  ?  Is  not  a 
scrupulous  regard  for  a  scholarly  selection  of  words  the 
fruit  of  a  squeamish  taste  ?  At  the  most,  is  it  not  an 
accomplishment  of  literary  leisure  rather  than  a  neces- 
sity to  literary  labor  ?  Specially,  is  it  not  burdensome 
to  the  business  of  a  practical  profession  ?  A  pastor  may, 
more  plausibly  than  other  men,  say,  "To  me,  public 
speaking  is  a  business :  I  perform  it  in  pursuit  of  great 
necessities.  I  am  over-worked  by  the  labors  incident  to 
it.  I  have  neither  taste  nor  time  to  cultivate  the  nice- 
ties of  scholastic  diction.  If  I  can  say  what  I  find  it 
in  me  to  say,  in  language  which  plain  men  understand, 
and  to  which  they  will  give  a  hearing,  my  ambition  does 
not  rise  higher  than  that."'  This  plea  of  professional 
necessity  in  practice  prevents  very  mai^y  pastors  from 
exercising  the  prerogative  of  educated  men  as  conser- 
vators of  pure  English. 

1.  Let  it  be  observed,  then,  that  literary  authority  is 
so 


LECT.  IV.]       PUKITY   TRIBUTARY   TC    CLEARNESS.  5] 

uniform  in  support  of  purity  as  the  foundation  of  the 
most  effective  style.  Cicero  declares  this  in  unqualified 
terms ;  and  in  so  doing  he  speaks  the  judguicnt  of  the 
ablest  authors,  speakers,  critics,  of  all  time.  No  writer 
of  distinction  depreciates  it  theoretically.  Carlyle  rep- 
resents a  class  of  authors  wlio  ignore  it  practically,  but 
I  do  not  know  that  he  has  ever  written  a  line  decrying 
it  in  theory.  Literary  opinion  claims  for  it  the  rank  of 
a  practical  necessity.  It  is  not  primarily  an  accomplish- 
ment, but  a  power.  Speakers  should  cultivate  it,  be- 
cause they  need  it.  It  is  the  most  direct  and  effective 
instrument  for  their  purpose.  The  best  style  for  all  the 
ends  of  public  discourse  is  a  pure  style.  This  is  the 
ground  taken  by  literary  opinion  on  the  subject.  It 
ought  to  be  authoritative  to  any  public  speaker  of  suffi- 
cient education  to  enable  him  to  understand  the  argu- 
ment. The  scholarly  judgment  of  the  world  would  not 
be  thus  uniform  if  it  were  not  true. 

2.  But,  more  specifically,  a  pure  style  is  tributary  to 
the  most  perfect  perspicuity  of  expression.  When  an 
objector  says,  "  If  I  make  myself  understood,  let  that 
suffice,"  he  begs  the  question.  The  surest  way  to  be 
understood  is  to  speak  your  pure  mother-tongue.  Per- 
spicuity is  relative  to  the  intelligence  of  hearers,  but 
pure  English  all  hearers  understand.  The  provincial 
dialects  of  Great  Britain  are  such,  that  the  people  of 
different  shires  can  vvith  difficulty  understand  each 
other;  but  pure  English  they  all  understand.  A  speaker 
who  employs  classic  English  3an  go  from  one  end  of  the 
kingdom  to  the  other,  and  be  perfectly  understood  by 
people  who  can  scarcely  make  themselves  intelligible  to 
one  another.  Yet  an  eminent  English  critic,  speaking 
of  the  English  peasantry,  says  that  "  a  rustic's  language, 
purified  from  all  provincialism  and  grossness,  and  so  fai 


52  ENGLISH    STYLE.  [leot.  nr. 

reconstructed  as  to  be  consistent  with  the  rules  of  gram- 
mar, will  not  dififer  from  the  language  of  any  other  man 
of  common  sense."  That  is  to  say,  the  popular  dialects 
of  Great  Britain  comprise,  for  their  staple  in  colloquial 
use,  good  English.  It  requires  but  a  sprinkling  of  pro- 
vincial words  to  make  a  patois.  Pure  English  in  place 
of  these  makes  a  perfect  instrument  of  popular  speech. 
The  chief  reason  why  the  English  Bible  is  so  clear, 
except  where  the  argument  is  abstruse,  is,  that  its  vocab- 
ulary is  such  pure  and  simple  English.  It  is  this  which 
gives  to  the  English  Scriptures  their  clearness,  pro- 
longed to  successive  generations.  They  were  published 
in  the  same  age  with  Spenser's  "  Faerie  Queene."  Now 
the  "  Faerie  Queene  "  needs  a  glossary,  while  the  Bible 
is  as  intelligible  as  ever.  Two  hundred  and  fifty  years 
is  a  long  while  for  the  lifetime  of  a  book.  No  book  can 
live  so  long  which  is  not  written  in  the  purest  vernacu- 
lar of  the  people.  One  of  the  reasons  of  the  sway  of 
the  Bible  over  the  other  literature  of  the  English  tongue 
is  that  its  style  is  so  pure.  An  accomplished  expert  in 
English  literature  says  that  "  our  poetry  could  not  have 
been,  as  it  is,  the  noblest  body  of  poetry  in  the  world, 
if  the  divines  and  scholars  of  King  James's  era  had  ■ 
taken  it  upon  themselves  to  translate  the  Bible  into  the 
polite  language  of  the  court,  or  into  any  other  than  that 
used  by  the  common  people."  The  secret  of  the  sway 
of  the  Scriptures  over  English  literature  is,  that,  by 
using  in  a  scholarly  way  the  language  of  the  people,  our 
translators  fell  back  upon  the  purest  vocabulary  of  their 
times ;  and  that  vocabulary  continues  to  be  perspicuous 
to  all  classes  of  mind  to  this  day.  The  purest  style  is 
not  only  the  most  perspicuous  for  the  time  being,  but  it 
has  the  longest  heritage  of  perspicuity  to  subsequent 
generations.     The  purest  style  hns  the  longest  life. 


LECT.  IV,]  PUEITY   TRIBUTARY   TO   FORCE,  53 

3.  Purity  is  tributary,  also,  to  the  most  forcible  style. 
A  vernacular  tongue  carries  weight  because  it  is  ver- 
nacular. Indefinable  magnetic  threads  connect  the  pure 
vernacular  with  the  sensibilities  of  the  people  who  use 
it.  Love  of  language  is  more  j)otent  than  love  of  coun- 
try. The  native  country,  men  call  the  father-land :  the 
native  language,  they  call  the  mother-tongue.  The  bal- 
lads of  a  nation  which  move  its  sensibilities  most  pro- 
foundly are  written  in  the  purest  dialect.  That  which 
Milton  said  of  books  is  more  profoundly  true  of  a  great 
nation's  language  in  its  untainted  purity :  "  Books  are 
not  dead  things,  but  they  do  carry  a  potency  of  life  in 
them."  So  that  style  in  the  pulpit  which  "  carries  a 
potency  of  life  "  in  it  to  the  hearts  of  hearers  is  the  style 
in  which  they  recognize  their  purest  vernacular  vocabu- 
lary. They  feel  it  as  their  own.  It  has  roots  running 
under  their  whole  intellectual  life,  and  going  back  to 
their  infancy.  Swiss  soldiers  in  the  Austrian  service 
used  to  be  forbidden  to  sing  their  country's  songs  in 
their  native  tongue  because  it  tempted  so  many  to  de- 
sertion. 

This  force  of  a  vernacular  style  ib  the  more  powerful 
in  the  English  language  because  of  the  intrinsic  vigor 
of  its  chief  fundamental  element,  the  Saxon.  "  Saxon  " 
has  become  a  synonym  of  "  strong."  This  is  the  ele- 
ment most  active  in  the  vitality  of  the  English  Bible, 
to  which  I  have  referred.  How  long  could  the  Lord's 
Prayer  in  English  form  live  if  it  had  been  translated 
mto  Latinized  English  like  that  of  Sir  Thomas  Browne  ? 
I  will  not  do  violence  to  our  associations  with  it  by 
subjecting  it  to  caricature ;  but  suppose  the  style  of  it 
to  have  been  as  technical  to  religious  thought  as  the 
following  is  to  the  science  of  medicine.  A  lady  has 
died  suddenlv,    and   the   reporter   thus   describes   the 


64  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [i,ect.  rf 

event :  "  An  autopsy  was  held,  which  revealed  exten- 
sive cardiac  disease,  consisting  of  h}  pertroph}-,  with 
uueui-ism  of  the  aorta  just  below  its  bifurcation,  the 
rupture  of  which  was  the  proximate  cause  of  dissolu- 
tion.*' It  requires  a  classical  scholar  to  understand 
from  this  that  the  person  died  of  heart-disease.  How 
long  would  the  readers  of  that  rural  newspaper  con- 
tinue their  use  of  the  Lord's  Prayer  if  it  had  been 
taught  to  them  by  our  translators  in  such  a  style  as 
this? 

4.  One  reason  for  cultivating  a  pure  English  style 
should  have  special  weight  with  preachers.  It  is  the 
intrinsic  superiority  of  pure  English  for  the  purposes 
of  religious  discourse. 

Languages  are  valuable  chiefly,  for  the  uses  which 
have  created  their  history.  Christian  preachers  find  a 
well-nigh  insuperable  difficulty  in  preaching  the  gospel 
in  some  heathen  tongues,  because  those  tongues  have 
never  been  used  to  express  Christian  ideas  or  the  off- 
shoots of  those  ideas.  They  have  been  framed  upon 
and  around  heathen  thought.  They  have  crystallized 
around  a  heathen  literature.  Heathen  institutions  have 
made  them  what  they  are.  The  gospel  could  never 
have  been  preached  in  the  language  of  Homer.  The 
vocabulary  of  Livy  and  Tacitus  could  never  have  con- 
tained the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith.  The  Eng- 
lish language,  on  the  contrary,  is  the  reverse  of  the 
ancient  classic  languages  in  respect  to  the  point  here 
indicated.  It  has  been  created  under  Christian  insti- 
tutions. Its  most  vital  period  of  growth  has  been 
synchronous  with  the  most  vital  growth  of  Christianity. 
The  literature  of  the  language  is  substantially  a  Chris- 
tian literature.  The  vocabulary  has  been  used  in  the 
direct  and  exact  expression  of  Christian  ideas,  tv  an 


LECT    IV  ]       THE   GENIUS    OF   THE   ENGLISH   MIND.  55 

extent  not  equaled  in  the  history  of  any  other  lan- 
guage, dead  or  living.  Not  a  Christian  thought  exists 
wliich  must  go  outside  of  the  English  ton^^ue  for  a 
clear,  precise,  forcible  utterance.  As  a  consequence, 
no  other  language  is  so  well  fitted  as  this  for  the  pur- 
pose of  Christian  discourse ;  and  the  fitness  is  just  in 
proportion  to  the  degree  to  which  the  language  is  used 
in  its  purity. 

Moreover,  the  genius  of  the  English  mind  has  given 
to  the  language  the  resources  which  specially  adapt  it 
to  the  work  of  a  preacher,  as  distinct  from  that  of  scho- 
lastic research.  The  English  mind  is  pre-eminently  the 
practical  mind  of  modern  times.  As  the  German  is  the 
philosophic,  and  the  French  the  scientific,  so  the  Eng- 
lish is  the  national  mind  most  heartily  given  to  the 
practical  civilization  of  the  age.  The  English  are  also 
a  nation  of  public  speakers.  The  same  is  true  of  the 
American  people.  In  no  other  countries  in  the  world 
is  language  so  much  used  in  public  oral  discourse  as  in 
these.  In  the  eloquence  of  the  pulpit,  of  the  bar,  of 
the  senate,  of  the  platform,  our  language  is  the  best 
fitted  for  use,  in  part  because  it  is  most  abundantly 
used  in  all  these  varieties  of  public  speech.  Such  a 
language  as  this,  with  such  a  history  behind  it,  and  the 
forces  of  such  a  history  in  its  structure,  deserves  to  be 
employed  with  scholarly  care.  An  indirect  method  of 
preaching  the  gospel  is  to  conserve  this  pre-eminently 
Christian  tongue  from  degeneracy.  This  should  be  the 
work  of  all  Christian  scholars. 

Lest  the  estimate  here  given  of  the  intrinsic  value  of 
our  language  should  seem  ext  "avagant,  let  me  give  the 
testimony  of  European  scholars.  The  first  is  that  of 
Jacob  Grimm,  the  German  lexicographer.  From  the 
midst  of  the  most  learned  etymological  studies  of  the 


56  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lbot.  rv 

age  he  once  sent  forth  this  tribute  to  a  language  not 
his  own.  "  The  English  language,"  he  wrote,  "  has  a 
veritable  power  of  expression  such  as,  perhaps,  never 
stood  at  the  command  of  any  other  language  of  men. 
Its  spiritual  genius,  its  wonderfully  happy  development, 
have  been  the  result  of  a  surprisingly  intimate  union 
of  the  two  noblest  languages  of  modern  Europe,  —  the 
Teutonic  and  the  Romanza.  In  truth,  the  English 
tongue,  which  by  no  mere  accident  has  produced  and 
upborne  the  greatest  poet  of  modern  times,  may  with 
all  right  be  called  a  world-language.  Like  the  Eng- 
lish people,  it  appears  destined  to  prevail,  with  a  sway 
more  extensive  even  than  its  present,  over  all  portionfi 
of  the  globe.  For  in  wealth,  good  sense,  and  closeness 
of  structure,  no  other  languages  at  this  day  spoken, 
not  even  our  German,  deserve  to  be  compared  to  it." 
This  is  the  judgment  of  a  German,  who  would  not 
needlessly  exalt  a  foreign  tongue  at  the  expense  of  his 
own.  It  is  the  judgment  of  a  philologist,  who  would 
not  indulge  in  declamation  on  such  a  theme.  It  is  the 
judgment  of  one  of  the  most  learned  men  of  the  age, 
who  knew  whereof  ne  afiBrmed. 

The  late  Baron  Humboldt  expressed,  not  long  before 
his  decease,  substantially  the  same  opinion  of  the  capa- 
cities of  the  English  as  compared  with  the  classic  lan- 
guages of  antiquity.  The  Academy  of  Berlin  once  gav* 
a  prize  for  the  best  essay  on  a  comparison  of  fourteen 
of  the  ancient  and  modern  tongues.  The  prize  was 
awarded  to  Jenisch,  and  the  essay  assigned  the  palm 
of  excellence  over  all  the  rest  to  the  English.  Guizot 
claims  the  superiority,  in  some  respects,  for  the  French 
tongue ;  yet  he  concedes  the  pre-eminence  of  Shakspeare 
over  all  other  modern  poets,  and  affirms  that  Shak- 
speare could  not  have  written  his  unequaled  dramas  in 


CKCT.  IV.]      DESTINY   OF  THE  ENGLISH  liAfcfGUAGE.        57 

any  other  than  the  English  language.  No  English,  no 
Shakspeare,  is  the  gist  of  his  criticism.  I  record  these 
testimonies  as  authorities  which  deserve  respect.  I  do 
not  profess  to  speak  ex  cathedra  on  the  subject.  The 
point  to  which  I  would  bend  such  testimony  is  this, 
that  such  a  language  deserves  protection  from  deca- 
dence and  corruption.  Its  purity  is  its  glory.  Schol 
arly  taste  ought  to  stand  sentinel  over  such  a  national 
treasure  in  the  persons  of  the  authors  and  public  speak- 
ers who  use  the  language  in  dignified  discourse. 

5.  Another  reason  for  the  scholarly  conservation  of 
our  language  in  its  purity  is  the  fact  that  the  knowl- 
edge and  the  use  of  it  are  rapidly  extending  over  the 
nations  of  the  world.  It  is  now  the  mother-tongue  of 
the  masters  of  one-fourth  of  the  civilized  globe.  De 
Quincey  expresses  the  opinion  that  the  English  and 
the  Spanish  are  destined  to  contest  the  control  of  the 
civilization  of  the  future.  Why  the  Spanish  should  be 
thought  able  to  engage  in  such  a  competition  I  do  not 
know,  unless  it  be  that  Spain  has  been  what  England 
is,  —  the  great  colonizing  power  of  the  globe.  Its  lan- 
guage, therefore,  has  a  lodgment  .at  many  commanding 
points  on  both  continents.  A  short  time  ago  seven- 
teen different  governments  corresponded  with  the  de- 
partment of  state  at  Washington  in  Spanish,  —  a  larger 
number,  probably,  than  that  of  correspondents  in  any 
other  tongue.  Alison  the  historian  gives  it  as  the 
result  of  his  studies  of  the  institutions  of  Europe,  that 
the  language  of  half  the  world,  for  ages,  will  be  our 
own.  Other  ethnologists  and  philologians  express  the 
same  or  a  similar  opinion. 

Such  anticipations,  I  am  aware,  appear  visionary  at 
the  first  view.  I  remember  when,  many  years  ago,  I 
expressed,  much  more  dubiously  than  I  should  now  do 


58  ENGLISH    STYLE.  [lect.  it 

it,  the  belief  that  tlie  destiny  of  our  language  is  to 
surpass  that  of  any  other  living  tongue,  as  well  as  the 
history  of  the  ancient  classic  tongues,  a  ripple  of  in- 
credulity went  over  my  audience  visibly  and  audibly. 
The  criticism  was  set  down,  I  doubt  not,  as  the  dream 
of  an  enthusiast.  But  since  that  time,  as  this  class  of 
studies  has  commanded  more  attention,  our  language 
and  literature  have  come  to  command  more  respect. 
The  opinion  in  question  has  forced  itself  upon  states- 
men and  travelers,  as  well  as  upon  experts  in  linguistic 
researches.  Several  facts  deserve  record,  which  sup- 
port it  beyond  reasonable  question,  and  which  bring  it 
within  range  of  the  judgment  of  any  educated  man. 

EXCTJKSFS. 

The  facts  here  alluded  to  are  of  sufficient  importance 
in  their  bearing  on  the  main  subject  to  justify  a  digres- 
sion upon  the  destiny  of  the  English  language. 

One  is  the  fact,  that  our  language  has  possession  of 
the  northern  half  of  the  American  continent.  Look- 
ing at  the  question  in  geographical  relations,  this  fact 
is  much  to  the  purpose.  We  need  not  indulge  in  any 
visionary  conjectures  of  the  future  population  of  this 
country,  dreaming,  as  many  do,  of  hundreds  of  millions 
crowding  this  portion  of  the  continent.  We  do  not 
know  what  latent  causes  may  affect  the  laws  of  popula- 
tion here.  The  distant  future  is  problematical  always 
in  the  growth  of  great  nations.  Occult  powers  often 
defeat  those  which  seem  to  foretell  a  splendid  destiny. 
This  continent  has  been  all  but  depopulated  once,  and 
it  may  be  so  again  if  national  character  demands  that 
in  the  economy  of  the  divine  plans.  Great  and  sudden 
cataclysms,  sweeping  nations  off  the  globe,  are  among 
the   mysterious   instruments   of  the  world's   progress. 


LECT.  IV.]  SOUTH   AMERICAN   DIALECTS.  59 

Wiser  men  than  we  must  they  be  who  shall  safely  say 
that  these  can  not  occur  in  the  future,  as  they  have 
occurred  in  the  past.  But  it  is  philosophical  to  accept 
present  causes  as  tending  to  certain  results  which  can 
safelv  be  pronounced  probable.  For  the  present  purpose, 
it  is  sufficient  to  say,  that,  whatever  North  America  is 
to  be  in  the  brotherhood  of  nations,  that  the  English 
language  is  to  be  among  the  national  tongues,  and  the 
English  literature  among  the  literatures  of  the  world. 
English  words,  English  idioms,  English  constructions, 
are  to  express  the  national  mind  here  existing  and  to 
be. 

In  the  second  place,  it  is  not  as  certain,  but  it  seems 
reasonably  probable,  that  the  southern  half  of  this  con 
tinent  is  to  come  under  the  same  English  dominion 
De  Quincey's  prognostications  in  behalf  of  the  Spanisl 
tongue  may  have  been  founded  on  its  establishment  in 
Central  and  South  America,  among  the  now  ruling  races 
there.  But  how  long,  without  a  new  infusion  of  life 
10  arrest  the  decadence  of  every  thing  Spanish,  can  that 
language  stand  the  pressure  of  the  English  thought  and 
speech  which  are  crowding  southward  ?  To  human 
wisdom  the  ill-timed  experiment  of  Maximilian  was  the 
expiring  effort  of  the  Latin  stock  to  perpetuate  itself 
in  great  empires  there.  The  Spanish  language,  with  its 
South  American  dialects,  is  not  extending  its  sway.  It 
is  not  ripening.  No  new  literature  of  any  force  is  grow- 
ing up  in  it.  The  races  which  speak  it  are  developing 
no  new  life  from  within.  The  most  vitalizing  forces 
they  are  receiving  are  from  without  the  Spanish  range  of 
ideas.  They  are  from  races  which  speak  English,  from 
institutions  which  are  built  on  English  thought,  from  lit- 
erature which  is  written  in  the  English  tongue,  from  a 
commerce  which  is  mainly  supported  by  English  capital. 


60  ENGLISH   STYLE.  (uiot.  i*. 

aud  ruled  by  English  brains.  Political  questions  are 
insignificant  in  comparison  with  the  prospective  ascen- 
dency there  of  the  English  language  and  the  literature 
which  it  embodies. 

Further:  our  language  has  a  lodgment  in  Australia. 
in  Africa,  and  in  India,  where,  beyond  all  question, 
large  and  wealthy  and  powerful  nations  are  to  exist, 
speaking  English  as  the  dialect  of  all  that  is  noblest  in 
their  civilization.  Even  in  India,  English  is  perceptibly 
gaining  ground  upon  the  native  dialects  as  the  lan- 
guage of  culture.  Some  sanguine  scholars  in  Calcutta 
anticipate  the  time  when  it  will  supplant  those  dialects. 
East-Indian  degradations,  in  some  respects  the  most 
degraded  the  human  mind  has  ever  known,  tend  to  drag 
down  into  oblivion,  and  thrust  out  of  human  memory, 
the  very  languages  which  contain  them,  and  have  be- 
come saturated  with  them.  Why  not?  What  more 
effective  way  can  the  Nemesis  of  corrupt  nations  devise 
for  ridding  them  and  the  world  of  such  enormities?  If 
such  a  language  as  the  Latin  could  die,  why  not  other 
tongues,  which  have  not  in  them  a  tithe  of  the  treasure 
which  the  Latin  had,  which  the  world  would  "  not  will- 
ingly let  die." 

In  the  fourth  place,  the  English  bids  fair  to  be  the 
language  of  the  Pacific  islands.  It  is  not  learning  and 
culture  chiefly,  which  extend  the  sway  of  a  national 
tongue  :  it  is  commerce.  Through  English  and  Ameri- 
can commerce,  our  language  is  forestalling  all  other 
powerful  tongues  which  can  compete  with  it  in  the 
groups  of  Pacific  islands.  This  may  give  to  it  a  grander 
sway  than  at  the  first  appears.  In  all  history,  insular 
power  has  been  great  and  long-lived.  It  may  be  so  io 
the  future.  At  all  events,  whatever  the  Pacific  islands 
are  to  be,  and  whatever  part  they  are  to  act  in  the 


LECT.  IV.]       ENGLISH   COLONIES   AND   COMMEKCE.  61 

world's  future,  that  the  English  language  is  to  be,  and 
that,  English  thought,  in  English  idioms  of  speech,  is  to 
do. 

The  fact  also  deserves  more  particular  notice,  that 
English  is  the  language  of  colonization  and  of  commerce 
the  world  over.  Those  agencies  which  are  most  effec- 
tive in  extending  commerce,  and  colonizing  new  lands, 
are  rooted  in  the  nations  to  which  English  speech  is 
vernacular.  In  these  lines  of  expansion,  the  French, 
the  Spanish,  and  the  German  —  the  only  tongues  which 
in  other  respects  can  compete  with  ours — have  no  future 
comparable  with  that  of  ours.  The  absorption  of  them, 
wherever  they  come  into  rivalship  with  English  on  a 
large  scale  and  on  a  new  soil,  is  only  a  question  of  time. 
If  new  and  uninhabited  lands  are  to  be  discovered  on 
the  globe,  the  chances  are,  that  the  first  foot  planted  on 
their  soil  will  be  that  of  an  Englishman  or  an  American, 
and  that  the  first  word  of  human  speech  heard  there 
will  be  from  our  mother-tongue.  Even  in  Central  Eu- 
rope, English  is  gaining  ground  as  the  language  of  cul- 
ture. The  ability  to  speak  it  is  recognized  both  as  an 
accomplishment  of  culture  and  a  necessity  of  commerce. 
The  old  idea  of  making  Latin  the  dialect  of  learning 
is  now  shut  up  to  the  universities.  The  later  fashion, 
of  making  J'rench  the  dialect  of  courts,  is  also  yielding 
ground.  In  many  German  cities  English  is  spoken  in 
every  other  store  one  enters.  Ask  for  a  hat  in  broken 
German,  and  the  chance  is,  that  you  will  be  asked  in 
return,  in  a  dialect  as  pure  as  yours,  "  Can  you  speak 
English  ?  " 

Commerce  and  colonization  have  effected  such  an  ex- 
tension of  the  use  of  this  language,  that  an  English  trav- 
eler, not  long  ago,  starting  from  Liverpool,  and  following 
the  sun,  traveled  on  a  belt  around  the  globe,  and  never 


02  ENGLISH    STYLE.  [lect.  it 

was  for  twenty-four  hours  on  land  out  of  hearing  of  liia 
native  tongue,  spoken  by  natives  of  the  countries  he 
visited.  Dilke's  "  Greater  Britain  "  is  well  worth  read- 
ing for  the  conception  it  gives  one  of  the  steadiness  and 
the  grandeur  with  which  English  speech  is  marching 
over  the  habitable  world.  It  is  more  sublime  than  the 
tramp  of  an  army.  Mr.  Webster  gave  expression  to  a. 
profound  fact,  prophetic  of  this  world's  destiny,  when 
he  represented  the  globe  as  surrounded  with  one  "  con- 
tinuous and  unbroken  strain  of  the  martial  airs  of  Eng- 
land." 

Once  more  :  English  is  the  language  pre-eminently  (>i 
Christian  missions.  Not  only  is  the  Christian  religion 
now  going  to  the  nations  from  English  sources  chiefly, 
and  supported  chiefly  by  auxiliary  institutions  of  Eng- 
lish origin,  but  it  is  more  and  more  largely  going  in 
English  forms  of  speech.  The  nations  which  speak 
English  are  the  great  missionary  nations,  as  they  are 
the  colonizing  nations.  In  their  missions,  as  in  their 
colonies,  they  carry  their  national  tongue  with  them. 
The  question  is  already  discussed  among  oar  American 
missionaries,  whether  an  error  in  missionary  policy  has 
not  been  committed  in  some  localities  by  trying  to  work 
Christianity  into  effete  and  expiring  dialects,  instead  of 
la}dng  the  foundations  of  a  Christian  education  in  au 
English  culture.  Many  parts  of  the  ruder  Pagan  world 
are  already  dotted  over  with  Christian  schools  in  which 
only  English  text-books  are  employed.  It  is  a  fair  ques- 
tion, and,  so  far  as  I  know,  yet  an  open  one,  whether  it 
pays  for  its  cost  in  time  and  money  and  missionarj'  life, 
to  build  up  Christian  institutions  in  savage  dialects 
whose  limited  and  often  degraded  vocabulary  renders 
it  difficult  to  put  into  them  even  the  elementary  ideas 
01  our  religion. 


LECT.  IV.]         ENGLISH    AND    PAGAN   TONGUES.  63 

A  recent  American  traveler,  sympathizing,  as  Sir 
Charles  Dilke  does  not,  with  the  work  of  missions, 
after  making  the  circuit  of  the  globe,  visiting  mission- 
ary stations  all  the  way,  does  not  hesitate  to  take  the 
negative  of  this  question,  so  far  as  the  purely  savage 
tongues  are  concerned.  He  writes :  "  Let  those  who 
conduct  the  missionary  operations  of  the  day  study 
this  question  of  language.  Instead  of  wasting  time 
and  strength,  and  money  and  lives,  in  making  written 
languages  out  of  the  dialects  of  savages,  begin  at  once 
with  the  English.  A  half-century  of  effort  well  di- 
rected will  sweep  from  the  earth  hundreds  of  dialects, 
specially  in  Africa  and  the  islands  of  the  Pacific."  I 
understand  his  idea  to  be,  that  we  should  depend  on 
oral  teaching  till  a  foothold  is  gained,  but  put  all 
Christian  books  into  English  forms,  and  build  at  length 
a  Christian  education  upon  those,  leaving  the  savage 
dialects  to  die  out  gradually,  as  they  will  when  brought 
into  competition  with  a  tongue  like  our  own.  For  the 
Christianizing  of  barbarous  tribes,  this  policy  may  be 
the  true  one.  The  fruit  of  it  may  be,  that  at  no  very 
distant  day  English  will  supplant. many  such  tribal  dia- 
lects. Some  of  our  missionary  books  now  extant  in 
those  dialects  may  become  an  antiquarian  curiosity,  like 
Eliot's  Indian  Bible,  which  now  only  one  living  man, 
if  one,  can  read.  Surely,  if  possible,  it  seems  desirable 
that  such  melancholy  monuments  of  toil  and  zeal,  and., 
it  may  be,  the  fidelity  of  invalids  to  a  life's  work,  all  so 
soon  to  pass  into  oblivion,  should  not  be  multiplied. 


LECTURE   V. 

PURITY    OF    STYLE;    REASONS    FOR    ITS     CULTIVATION, 
CONCLUDED.  — MEANS  OF   ITS  ACQUISITION. 

What  is  the  drift  of  the  reflections  presented  in  the 
last  Lecture  upon  the  probable  destiny  of  the  English 
language,  as  it  regards  the  main  subject  before  us  ?  It 
may  be  condensed  into  a  few  emphatic  particulars. 

One  is,  that  this  is  clearly  destined  to  be  a  living  lan- 
guage for  an  incalculable  period  of  time.  A  human 
speech  possessed  of  such  intense  vitality,  and  freighted 
with  such  materials  of  knowledge  as  those  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion  and  the  civilization  which  it  nurtures,  may 
never  die.  Another  fact  is,  that  this  is  such  a  language 
as  Christianity  always  uses  for  its  own  advancement. 
The  Christian  religion  has  always  disclosed  an  affinity 
for  the  youth  and  the  manhood  of  languages  rather  than 
for  their  periods  of  decadence.  It  abandons  the  dying 
for  the  nascent  literatures.  More  than  once  it  has 
passed  out  from  aged  to  youthful  nations,  from  decaying 
to  germinant  races,  and,  therefore,  from  effete  into  living 
dialects.  By  all  the  teachings  of  its  historj^  it  should 
seem  to  be  established  that  the  English  tongue  is  to  be  the 
great  instrument  of  its  future  and  of  "ts  final  triumph. 

This  view  is  confirmed  by  anothe:  fact,  —  that  it  is 
the  way  of  Divine  Providence  to  ordain  elect  languages 
to  great  services  in  the  work  of  this  world's  redemption. 
As  there  are  elect  nations,  races,  families,  individuals, 

64 


CECT.  v.]  LANGUAGE  A  DIVINE  TRUST.  65 

and  types  of  civilization,  so  there  are  elect  languages. 
Selection  and  decree  of  choice  things  to  great  ends  run 
through  Providence  as  through  Nature.  Thus  choice 
languages  are  appointed  to  execute  divine  purposes  of 
exceptional  magnitude.  The  call  of  Abraham  was  not 
more  potently  the  voice  of  God  than  was  the  creation 
of  the  Greek  tongue.  The  election  of  the  Hebrews  to 
be  conservators  of  revealed  truth  was  not  more  obvious 
than  the  decree  now  is  which  ordained  the  Latin  tongue 
to  a  work  of  its  own  in  the  early  stages  of  Christianity. 
Our  English  tongue  is  one  of  these  elect  languages,  and 
the  latest  in  the  line,  as  it  appears,  of  Christian  civiliza- 
tion. The  Greek  language  in  the  golden  age  of  Athens 
did  not  compass  so  grand  a  destiny. 

From  this  view,  then,  it  follows  that  our  language 
ought  to  be  guarded  from  degeneracy.  As  scholars  and 
as  public  teachers,  the  ministers  of  religion  should  han- 
dle it  as  a  sacred  trust.  Dante  says  that  the  first  duty 
of  a  poet  is  to  guard  the  purity  of  his  native  tongue  with 
jealous  care.  If  this  be  true  of  the  Italian  tongue,  how 
much  more  significantly  true  of  the  English  !  And,  if 
true  of  a  poet's  duty,  how  much  more  sacredly  true  of 
that  of  a  Christian  preacher!  We  should  revere  our 
language  as  a  trust  direct  from  the  hands  of  God.  It 
is  worse  than  boorish  to  abuse  the  laws,  and  distort  the 
structure,  of  such  a  language  in  public  speech.  To  a 
refined  and  scholarly  conscience  it  is  a  moral  wrong 
thus  to  misuse  an  instrument  which  God  so  manifestly 
ordains  to  great  uses.  We  speak  of  "  sacred  languages." 
We  revere  the  very  words  in  which  inspired  thought 
has  been  revealed.  But  why  should  one  of  the  chosen 
dialects  of  revelation  be  more  revered  than  a  chosen 
dialect  of  Christian  civilization  and  redemption  ?  It  ia 
precisely  in  accord  with  our  work  as  Christian  preachers 


66  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  v 

to  act  as  conservators  of  the  graces  and  the  forces  of 
such  a  tongue.  To  do  this  we  must  possess  and  must 
keep  in  constant  use  a  respect  for  its  purity  among 
the  cultivated  chisses  of  those  who  use  it.  Of  these  no 
other  is  equal  in  literary  influence  to  the  public  speak- 
ers of  a  republic. 

6.  A  sixth  reason  for  cultivating  the  use  of  pure 
English  by  American  speakers  and  writers  is,  that  the 
language  is  in  special  danger  of  corruption  in  this 
country.  The  danger  arises  from  several  causes,  which 
can  be  but  briefly  noticed  here. 

One  is,  that  republican  institutions  favor  the  influ- 
ence of  the  illiterate  upon  the  language.  Our  people 
are  intelligent,  yet  in  the  main  illiterate.  Republican- 
ism creates  a  multitude  of  illiterate  speakers.  It  tends, 
also,  to  promote  the  use  of  the  language  in  address  to 
the  illiterate.  As  a  nation  we  have  no  such  knowledgre 
as  that  which  extensive  reading  gives,  and  no  such 
delicacy  of  ear  for  the  sounds  of  the  language  as  the 
people  of  Athens  had  in  their  better  days.  Popular  in- 
fluence on  the  use  of  the  language,  therefore,  is  power- 
ful, and  at  the  same  time  not  subject  to  good  taste. 
Public  speakers  of  all  classes  are  tempted  to  speak  for 
sensational  effect.  Members  of  the  American  Senate 
illustrate  the  force  of  this  temptation  in  the  prejudice 
which  some  of  them  have  expressed,  in  words  quite 
equal  to  the  dignity  of  the  sentiment,  against  "  literary 
fellers"  among  their  associates.  The  late  Hon.  Stephen 
A.  Douglas  once  declared  it  to  be  a  disqualification  for 
the  duties  of  senator,  that  a  man  had  a  classical  educa- 
tion. 

The  power  of  this  prejudice  is  seen  in  the  very  struc- 
ture of  our  standard  English  lexicons.  Their  scholarly 
editors  dare  not  shut  out  wholly  from  them  words  r  hicb 


LECT.  v.]  PKOVINCIAL   DIALECTS.  67 

nave  no  possible  use  or  authority  but  those  of  low  life 
The  lexicons  are  swollen  to  such  size,  that  ono  needs  a 
porter  to  carry  them ;  and  yet  each  new  edition  adds 
thousands  of  words,  many  of  which  are  useless,  and 
words  of  which  the  less  the  people  know,  the  better. 
It  would  be  a  service  ta  the  national  civilization  if  they 
could  not  be  found  in  any  dictionary.  Yet  publishers, 
in  the  competition  of  trade,  dare  not  exclude  them.  It 
will  never  do  that  one  book  should  contain  five  thou- 
sand words  more  than  its  rival.  That  they  are  branded 
with  scholarly  objections,  such  as  "rare,"  "not  used," 
"  low,"  "  obsolete,"  etc.,  amounts  to  little.  The  corrup- 
tions are  there.  The  people  see  them  in  the  standards 
of  the  language,  and  seeing  is  believing.  The  record 
itself  is  a  triumph  of  barbarism  over  learning  and  taste. 

Again :  the  extent  of  our  territory  favors  the  forma- 
tion of  provincial  dialects.  I  have  spoken  of  the  dia- 
lects in  the  different  shires  of  England.  In  France 
the  same  thing  abounds.  The  j)easantry  of  different 
departments  find  it  difficult  to  understand  each  other. 
Yet  France  has  a  territory  not  so  large  as  Texas,  of  not 
much  more  than  one-half  the  size  of  Nebraska.  He- 
rodotus tells  us,  that  the  dialects  of  ancient  Greece 
often  could  not  be  intelligibly  interchanged  by  those 
who  used  them.  Yet  Greece  comprised  a  landed  area 
less  than  that  of  one-half  of  the  State  of  Pennsylvania. 
What  shall  prevent  the  growth  of  provincial  tongues 
in  a  territory  measured  by  thousands  of  miles  from  sea 
to  sea,  divided  by  such  lines  of  demarkation  as  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  and  embracing  every  variety  of  cli- 
mate and  production  within  the  temperate  zone  ? 

To  illustrate  what  is  actually  going  on  on  the  Pacific 
coast,  let  me  instance  that  which  is  called  the  "  Chi 
nook  dialect "  in  Oregon.     A  few  years  ago  that  dia 


68  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lkct,  t 

lect  was  in  full  play  as  an  infant  language  by  itself.  It 
was  original!}'  compounded  by  members  and  employees 
of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  to  facilitate  trade  with 
the  Indians.  A  dictionary  of  it  has  been  printed,  con- 
taining about  twelve  hundred  words  made  up  of  Eng- 
lish, French,  and  German,  with  a  sprinkling  of  Indian 
words.  Of  forty  tribes  of  Indians,  no  two  use  the  same 
language;  but  they  all  understand  "Chinook." 

Further :  the  multitude  of  nations  represented  in  the 
emigration  to  this  country  also  fosters  the  growth  of 
dialects.  The  Dutch  settlers  in  Eastern  New  York 
were  from  the  first  hemmed  in  by  strong  English  popu- 
lations ;  yet  they  have  left  an  impression  on  the  collo- 
quial language  of  that  region  which  lives  to  this  day, 
and  this  after  the  lapse  of  two  hundred  years.  In  some 
inland  villages  not  far  from  the  Hudson  the  mixture  of 
Dutch  and  English  words  is  obvious.  It  is  not  long 
since  persons  were  found  there  who  spoke  Dutch  alone, 
yet  were  natives  of  the  Empire  State.  In  Oneida 
County,  a  few  years  ago,  you  might  have  traveled  for 
miles,  and  heard  only  the  Welsh  language. 

If  a  few  Dutch  and  Welsh  immigrants  could  give  to 
their  languages  such  vitality  in  the  midst  of  a  thickly 
settled  English  State,  what  must  be  the  effect  produced 
by  the  thousands  of  Germans,  Swedes,  Norwegians,  hi 
the  north-western  States?  These  have  newspapers  in 
their  native  tongues,  and  schools  in  which  those  tongues 
are  used.  Sometimes  even  the  laws  of  the  State  have 
to  be  printed  in  a  foreign  language.  In  the  city  of 
Chicago  the  gospel  is  preached  in  eight  different  dia- 
lects to-day. 

The  intermixture  of  races  in  this  country  is  beyond 
all  precedent  in  the  history  of  mankind.  A  correspond- 
ent in  a  Californian  periodical  says  that  marriages  occur 


fcBOT.  v.]  AMERICAN  DIALECTS.  69 

there  "  between  Yankees  and  Digger  Indians,  Irish  and 
Chinese,  Mexican  and  Malay,  Portuguese  and  Sandwich 
Idanders,  Canadian  and  negro,  French  and  Apache,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  more  common  intermarriages  to  be 
seen  in  all  parts  of  America."  He  adds,  "  The  way  the 
English  language  must  suffer  in  the  mouths  of  the  de- 
scendants of  these  oddly-coupled  people  will  be  without 
parallel.  Even  now  the  more  familiar  Spanish  terms 
have  become  ingrafted  on  our  English,  so  that  they  never 
can  be  detached  again.  Words  from  every  language  on 
the  earth  are  working  in,  from  Chinese  to  Kanaka."  A 
shoemaker  in  San  Francisco  was  asked  by  a  customer, 
"  Can  you  speak  English  ?  "  and  he  replied  unhesitat- 
ingly, "  Si  Signor,  certainement !  you  bet !  "  There 
were  three  languages  in  one  sentence ;  and  the  good 
man  straightened  himself  up  with  a  look  of  proud  sat- 
isfaction at  the  thought  that  he  could  speak  English 
like  a  native.     He  was  an  Italian. 

The  effect  of  this  condition  of  things  must  subject 
our  language  to  a  very  severe  process  of  transition,  in 
which  dialects  will  be  almost  inevitable.  The  danger 
is,  that  the  language  will  be  seriously  weakened  for  the 
high  purposes  it  has  served  hitherto,  and  which  have 
resulted  in  the  noblest  body  of  literature  in  the  world. 

Good  taste,  however,  does  not  favor  any  quixotic  en- 
terprise. Changes  can  not  be  wholly  prevented.  It  is 
not  desirable  that  they  should  be.  But  it  is  desirable 
and  practicable  to  guard  the  old  English  of  scholars 
and  public  speakers  from  reckless  change,  from  igno- 
rant change,  from  change  fostered  by  the  indolence  of 
authors  and  the  coarseness  of  readers.  Keep  the  old 
English  literature  within  the  homely  language  of  the 
people,  as  it  is  now,  by  keeping  the  language  substan 
tially  what  it  is  nov.     Do  not  allow  such  a  magnificent 


70  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  v 

aterature  to  become  obsolete  through  the  obsolescence 
of  the  tongue  in  which  it  is  now  treasured.  Think  of 
it  I  Shall  an  American  a  hundred  years  hence  be  un- 
able to  read  "  The  Pilgrim's  Progress  "  in  the  original  ? 
Shall  an  American  child  then  need  a  glossary  to  deci- 
pher the  present  form  of  "  The  Lord's  Prayer,"  as  we  do 
to  read  the  translation  of  it  by  Wickliffe  ?  It  wonld 
be  a  catastrophe  to  all  high  culture  and  to  Christianity 
itself.  Yet  any  language  will  die  out  thus,  if  authors 
and  speakers  leave  it  unguarded  to  di'ift  with  illiterate 
and  vulgar  usage.     The}'  are  its  natural  conservators. 

7.  One  reason  for  cultivating  a  pure  English  style 
remains  to  be  considered  briefly,  which  is  of  special 
interest  to  clergymen.  It  is,  that  the  clergy  of  a  coun- 
try have  great  influence  over  the  tastes  and  usages  of 
the  people.  The  pastor  of  a  parish,  if  he  is  an  educated 
man,  becomes  often  the  standard  of  culture  to  his  peo- 
ple, unless  he  forfeits  the  prerogative  by  presenting  an 
unworthy  standard  in  his  own  person.  This  is  specially 
true  in  rural  parishes.  One  pastor  I  have  known  who 
was  for  twenty  years  the  standard  of  appeal  in  matters 
of  literar}^  taste  in  the  city  of  Boston.  His  use  of  the 
English  language  was  never  questioned.  Scholarly  law- 
3'ers,  physicians,  and  men  of  leisure,  deferred  to  him 
as  an  oracle.  Coleridge  says,  that,  "if  the  history  of 
phrases  in  hourly  currency  among  English  peasants  were 
traced,  a  person  not  previously  aware  of  the  fact  would 
be  surprised  at  finding  so  large  a  number  which  three 
or  four  centuries  ago  were  the  exclusive  property  of  the 
schools,  and  at  the  commencement  of  the  Reformation 
had  been  transferred  from  the  school  to  the  pulpit^  and 
thus  gradually  passed  into  common  life." 

A  clergyman  should  never  forget  this  prerogative  of 
his  position.     An  incidental  duty  of  the  clerical  office 


LBCT.  v.]  THE  CLERICAL  PROFESSION.  71 

is  to  elevate  the  people  in  their  use  of  their  mother- 
tongue.  Refine  a  people's  daily  speech,  and  you  refine 
their  daily  thoughts.  Men  of  letters  in  other  depart- 
ments of  life  complain  of  our  profession  in  this  respect, 
and  with  some  reason.  They  say  that  we  are  tolerant 
of  cant,  that  we  encourage  the  inroad  of  barbarisms, 
that  we  coin  poor  English,  that  we  use  needless  tech- 
nicalities, that  we  import  into  sermons  the  slang  of 
newsboys.  In  all  this  we  sacrifice  athletic  English  to 
a  dialect  as  unbecoming  to  the  pulpit  as  it  is  unneces- 
sary to  the  expression  of  any  thought  which  deserves 
utterance  in  the  pulpit.  Those  of  the  clergy  are  justly 
condemned  who  do  not  in  other  respects  show  them- 
selves the  friends  of  education.  Common  schools,  col- 
leges, professional  seminaries,  look  to  our  profession  for 
their  most  efficient  founders  and  conductors.  They  have 
a  right  to  do  so.  Ministers  of  the  Christian  religion  are, 
ex  officio^  auxiliaries  of  schools  of  learning.  We  teach  a 
religion  of  thought.  Why  have  we  not  a  corresponding 
duty  to  the  culture  of  the  country,  respecting  that  cause 
and  sign  of  high  culture  which  consists  in  a  pure  use  of 
the  English  tongue  ?  A  thoroughly  faithful  pastor  will 
not  be  negligent  of  such  incidental  duties  and  preroga- 
tives of  his  calling. 

I  have  said  that  we  teach  a  religion  of  thought.  A 
very  significant  fact,  looking  in  the  same  direction,  is, 
that  we  teach  the  religion  of  a  Book^  and  that  that 
Book  in  our  English  version  is  rhetorically  one  of  the 
purest  in  the  language.  It  has  done  more  than  all  the 
rest  of  our  literature  combined  to  make  the  language 
what  it  is,  and  to  send  a  rich  and  strong  and  sweet 
current  of  pure  English  through  the  dialect  of  all  the 
English-speaking  nations.  We  can  not  be  true  to  the 
literary  spirit  of  the  Bible,  nor  congenial  in  the  influ 


72  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lbct.  t 

eiice  of  our  ministrations  witli  its  literary  influence  on 
tlie  W(U-lil,  if  we  do  not  preach  in  the  language  of  lofty 
English  scholarship.  Dr.  Henry  More  says,  that  "  a 
man  of  good  parts,  by  constant  reading  of  the  Bible, 
will  naturally  form  a  more  winning  and  commanding 
rhetoric  than  those  that  are  learned ;  the  intermixture 
of  tongues  and  of  artificial  phrases  debasing  their  style." 
Fidelity  to  the  Book,  then,  which  has  created  the  Chris- 
tian pulpit,  should  render  the  style  of  the  pulpit  a  model 
of  pure,  national  English. 

8.  The  eighth  and  last  reason  to  be  observed  for  cul- 
tivating a  pure  style  is,  that  the  taste  for  such  a  style 
is  indispensable  to  thorough  and  refined  scholarship. 
Observe  critically  the  character  of  educated  men,  and 
you  will  find  that  their  genuine  culture  in  other  things 
is  proportioned  to  their  taste  for  good  English  in  theii 
public  speech.  The  accuracy  of  a  man's  learning,  the 
soundness  of  his  philosophy,  the  trustworthiness  of  his 
literary  judgments,  the  value  of  his  opinions  of  books, 
of  educational  enterprises  and  expedients,  and  the  gen- 
eral symmetry  of  his  culture,  may  be  graded  b}^  his  taste 
for  pure  English  in  his  own  use  of  language.  The  study 
of  this  quality  of  speech  lies  deeper  in  the  ground-work 
of  culture  than  at  the  first  view  it  appears  to  do.  Its 
roots  run  into  and  under  the  foundation  of  scholarship. 
This  is  the  chief  reason  why  so  large  a  space  is  given 
here  to  its  discussion.  It  is  not  because  purity  of  stylo 
is  immediately  and  intrinsically  more  important  than 
other  qualities,  but  that  it  lies  at  the  basis  of  them  all. 

VI.  The  only  remaining  topic  in  the  discussion  of  the 
theme  before  us  is  the  inquiry,  What  are  the  most 
effective  means  of  acquiring  a  pure  style  ?  These  relat*i 
to  several  things. 

I.  One  of  these  is  our  habitual  conversation.     We 


I.KOT.  v.]  COLLOQUIAL.  STYLE.  73 

should  distinguish  between  colloquial  usAge  and  that  of 
continuous  discourse.  Conversation  tolerates  a  freedom 
which  is  not  authorized  in  discourse,  written  or  oral. 
Colloquial  usage  admits  provincialisms,  contractions, 
even  imports  from  other  tongues,  more  freely  than  the 
usage  of  public  speech  or  of  authorship.  For  instance, 
a  scholarly  spirit  does  not  recoil  at  hearing,  in  the 
freedom  of  conversation,  such  contractions  as  "  don't," 
"  can't,"  "  won't."  But,  when  Daniel  Webster  used  them 
in  the  United-States  Senate,  he  violated  the  canons  of 
cultivated  taste.  He  did  not  do  it  in  the  earlier  and 
more  vigorous  years  of  his  life.  His  style  in  this,  and 
in  some  other  respects,  deteriorated.  We  often  say  of 
a  man's  written  style,  that  it  needs  more  of  the  collo- 
quial elements.  That  criticism  commonly  refers,  not 
to  vocabulary,  but  to  construction,  and  specially  to 
the  ease  and  flexibility  of  structure  which  conversation 
"".reates  more  readily  than  written  discourse. 

But  it  is  not  fastidious  criticism  to  subject  even  con- 
versation to  substantially  the  same  rules  respecting  a 
pure  vocabulary  by  which  we  form  the  diction  of  dis- 
course. Use  pure  English  in  common  talk.  This  is  not 
"  talking  like  a  book."  It  is  using  in  speech  the  best 
elements  of  the  language,  —  the  best  for  clearness,  for 
force,  for  elegance.  Observe  for  yourself  the  conversa- 
tion of  the  best  class  of  educated  men:  you  will  detect 
an  indefinable  charm  in  it,  which  is  due  almost  wholly 
to  its  selection  of  pure  words,  the  predominance  of 
Saxon  words,  the  avoidance  of  slang,  of  contractions, 
of  vulgarisms,  of  pedantic  importations.  The  colloquial 
style  of  Edward  Everett  by  the  hour  together  might 
have  been  transferred  to  print  without  an  omission  or  a 
correction.  So  might  that  of  Washington  Irving.  One 
•eason  why  they  wrote  as  they  did,  in  pure  classic  Eng- 


74  ENGLISH   tolYLB.  [lbct,  ▼ 

lish,  was  that  they  talked  in  pure  classic  English.  The 
habit  of  the  tongue  became  the  habit  of  the  pen. 

An  educated  man  should  never  translate  educated 
speech  into  slang  facetiousl3^  A  man's  jests  may  bt.  a 
cause,  as  well  as  a  sign,  of  literary  decline.  The  major- 
ity of  men  of  culture  would  be  surprised  to  discover 
how  much  of  such  facetiousness  exists  among  them, 
and  how  insidious  its  influence  is  on  refinement  both  of 
thought  and  speech.  Some  conversationalists  seem  to 
know  no  other  way  of  giving  mother-wit  to  their  talk 
than  that  of  translating  pure  English  into  the  dialect  of 
low  life.  The  apology  for  it  is,  that  it  is  so  expressive. 
But  so  is  profaneness  expressive.  Vulgarity  in  all  forms 
is  expressive.  You  can  command  entranced  attention 
in  the  pulpit  by  the  utterance  of  an  oath.  But  neither 
is  a  necessity  to  the  bold  and  manly  purposes  of  conver- 
sation. The  princes  in  colloquial  expression  employ  a 
vocabulary  of  which  the  most  fastidious  scholar  need 
not  be  ashamed.  The  most  forcible  elements  of  common 
talk  are  its  purest  elements. 

The  habit  of  ignoring  those  elements  in  favor  of  their 
vulgar  equivalents  is  degrading  to  a  man's  habits  of 
thinking.  It  fills  his  mind  with  coarse  expressions  of 
energy ;  and,  in  the  haste  of  dignified  speech,  these  will 
crowd  their  way  in,  to  the  displacement  of  those  refined 
forms  which  a  scholar's  taste  prefers,  and  the  superiority 
of  which  every  man  feels.  Such  forms  of  vulgar  force, 
once  rooted  in  a  speaker's  vocabulary,  may  not  die  out 
of  it  in  a  lifetime.  De  Quincey,  for  instance,  must  first 
have  allowed  his  colloquial  dialect  to  be  corrupted,  be- 
fore he  could,  with  his  princely  command  of  language, 
have  indulged  himself  in  writing,  as  he  does,  of  Greece 
as  having  been  very  proud  of  having  *' licked"  tier 
enemy  "  into  almighty  smash  ; "  and  again,  of  Apollo 


LECT.  v.]  READING  CLASSIC   ENGLISH.  76 

dorus  as  being  "  cock  of  the  walk."  An  author's  pen 
does  not  commit  such  crimes  against  the  mother-tongue 
if  his  own  tongue  has  not  first  been  guilty  of  degrading 
colloquial  liberty  into  colloquial  vulgarity. 

2.  A  pure  style  may  be  fostered  by  the  reading  of 
classic  English  authors.  Thb  most  lasting  influence 
which  forms  a  speaker's  style  is  commonly  that  of  the 
authors  of  whom  he  is  most  fond.  The  influence  is  a 
silent  one,  and  its  growth  imperceptible  ;  but  it  is  crea- 
tive. That  which  an  educated  man  reads  with  most 
profound  reverence  and  enjoyment  he  will  most  nearly 
resemble  in  the  end.  Delight  in  pure  English,  and  you 
will  compose  in  pure  English.  Let  your  tastes  be 
formed  upon  the  models  of  Addison,  Dugald  Stewart, 
David  Hume,  Wordsworth,  Macaulay,  Whately,  "Wash- 
ington Irving,  Edward  Everett,  Motley,  and  Prescott, 
and  you  can  scarcely  fail  to  write  and  speak  with  a  pure 
vocabulary. 

On  the  other  hand,  read  with  scholarly  caution 
authors  who  by  reputation  are  indifferent  to  the  purity 
of  their  language.  Do  not  accept  as  authorities  Cole- 
ridge, Carlyle,  Emerson.  Read  with  critical  care  against 
abuses  of  language  those  authors  whose  culture  has 
been  chiefly  derived  from  German  literature.  I  am 
unable  to  assign  a  reason  for  it ;  but  it  is  a  fact,  that 
German  writers,  when  they  become  the  favorites  of  an 
American  speaker,  are  more  efficient  in  corrupting  his 
English  style  than  those  of  any  other  foreign  tongue. 
This,  probably,  was  the  chief  source  of  the  degeneracy 
of  Carlyle's  English.  It  is  reported  that  when  he  began 
his  literary  career,  before  German  studies  had  become 
ascendant  in  his  reading,  he  wrote  a  diction  not  at  all 
noticeable  for  unscholarly  features.  The  degradation 
of  his  style  to  the  most  monstrous  contortions  that  have 


76  ENGLISH   STrLE.  [lect.  \ . 

defaced  any  modern  literature  of  equal  rank  seems  to 
have  been  consciously  and  voluntarily  invited  on  his 
part,  by  the  sacrifice  of  his  English  to  his  German  mas- 
ters. 

3.  Purity  of  style  may  be  assisted  in  its  growth  by  a 
discreet  use  of  dictionaries,  grammars,  and  other  trea 
tises  upon  language.  As  I  have  before  remarked,  an 
educated  man  should,  if  possible,  own  both  the  un 
abridged  English  dictionaries  which  belong  to  Ameri- 
can literature.  Webster's  Dictionary  is  a  nearly  perfect 
authority  for  the  signification  of  words.  Some  words 
found  there  have  attached  to  them  a  thesaurus  of  in- 
formation about  their  varieties  of  meaning  and  the 
idioms  in  which  they  occur.  Examine,  for  example,  the 
word  "  get  "  in  that  dictionary.  The  study  of  such  dic- 
tionaries, even  when  one  can  not  accept  them  as  decisive 
of  the  right  of  a  word  to  he  in  the  language,  is  still 
valuable  in  forming  one's  taste,  and  assisting  one's  in- 
dependent judgment.  Robert  Hall  never  wrote  for  the 
press  without  keeping  Johnson's  Dictionary  open  before 
him  for  reference.  Yet  he  might  have  been  pardoned, 
if  any  man  might,  for  writing  recklessly ;  for  he  prob- 
ably never  had  a  painless  waking  hour  in  his  life  after 
reaching  the  age  of  manhood.  He  lived  and  died  in 
extreme  neuralgic  suffering.  If  Carlyle  had  been  such 
a  sufferer  as  Hall  was,  one  might  pardon  his  style  for 
howling  and  growling  in  outlandish  English. 

Grammars,  also,  men  of  culture  neglect  too  commonly. 
De  Quincey  writes,  "  We  blush  to  say,  that,  through  a 
circle  of  prodigious  reading,  we  have  never  known 
a  writer  who  did  not  sometimes  violate  the  accidence  or 
syntax  of  the  English  language."  A  professor  in  one 
of  our  colleges  once  expressed  the  opinion,  that  not 
one  educated  man  in  ten  can  invariably  use  correctly 


LEOT.  v.]  HABITS   OF   COMPOSITION.  77 

the  English  subjunctive  mood.  There  is  much  ele- 
mentary knowledge  of  language  which  even  a  collegiate 
training  by  no  means  makes  sure  in  a  man's  culture. 

Of  other  treatises  on  language  than  dictionaries  and 
grammars,  tlie  following  are  among  the  most  valuable : 
Bartlett's  "Dictionary  of  Americanisms,"  Trench's 
treatise  on  "  The  Study  of  Words,"  Latham's  "  Treatise 
on  the  English  Language,"  Marsh's  "  Lectures  on  tlie 
English  Language,"  Grant  White's  "Words  and  their 
Uses,"  Max  Miiller's  work  on  "  The  Comparative  Phi- 
lology of  the  Indo-European  Languages,"  "  Language, 
and  the  Study  of  Language,"  by  Professor  Whitney, 
and  Whately's  "  Synonyms."  A  few  such  volumes,  for 
one  who  is  engaged  in  an  arduous  profession,  are  better 
than  many. 

4.  Purity  of  style  may  obviously  be  cultivated  by  a 
scholarly  care  in  one's  own  habits  of  composing.  Never 
use  a  doubtful  word  without  investigation.  Generally 
give  the  preference  to  Saxon  words.  A  Saxon  style  is 
almost  certain  to  be  a  pure  style.  Criticise  your  own 
composition  after  the  excitement  of  the  work  is  over. 
By  directing  your  own  attention  consciously  to  the 
barbarisms  already  familiar  to  your  pen,  you  most  easily 
expel  them  from  your  use.  Write  also  with  the  assist- 
ance of  a  manuscript  catalogue  of  words  which  you 
detect  as  impure  or  doubtful  English  in  your  reading. 
For  convenience'  sake,  such  a  list  of  words  should 
include  also  those  which  are  violations  of  precision,  to 
avoid  the  necessity  of  constructing  two.  Words  obso- 
lete, words  obsolescent,  words  doubtful,  words  whose 
structure  or  sense  should  not  invite  their  introduction 
to  the  language,  words  not  precise  as  commonly  era- 
ployed,  unauthorized  compounds,  words  improperly  im- 
ported, —  these  and  similar  violations  of  good  style  may 


78  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  v 

be  accumulated  as  a  ready  guide  to  one's  own  critical 
taste.  Knowing  what  to  shun  is  the  chief  thing  in 
learning  what  to  use.  The  very  writing  of  such  a 
catalogue  will  of  itself  improve  one's  critical  tasto.  It 
is  also  the  most  effective  method  of  keeping  one's  self 
informed  of  the  progress  of  the  language. 


LECTURE  VI. 

PRECISION  OF  STYLE.  —  DEFINITION.  —  VIOLATIONS. 

Precision  of  style  —  what  is  its  characteristic  idea  ? 
This  is  figuratively  suggested  by  its  etymology, — prcB- 
ddo.  To  eliminate  redundancies,  to  supply  deficiencies, 
and  to  remove  inaccuracies,  is  its  aim.  Precision,  then, 
is  the  synonym  of  exactness.  More  fully,  it  is  that 
quality  by  which  a  writer's  style  expresses  no  more, 
no  less,  and  no  other,  than  the  thought  which  he  means 
to  express. 

I.  Precision  needs  to  be  distinguished  from  certain 
other  qualities  which  it  resembles.  It  is  distinct  from 
propriety  of  style.  Propriety,  as  we  have  seen,  relates 
to  the  signification  of  language  as  fixed  by  usage :  precis- 
ion relates  to  the  signification  of  language  as  demanded 
by  the  thought  to  be  expressed.  Propriety  is  satisfied 
if  we  write  good  English:  precision  demands  such  a 
choice  of  good  English  as  shall  express  our  meaning. 

Precision  is  distinct,  also,  from  perspicuity  of  style. 
Precision,  as  above  remarked,  is  satisfied  if  we  express 
in  good  English  our  thought,  no  more,  no  less,  no  other. 
Perspicuity  requires  such  a  selection  of  good  English 
as  shall  make  our  thought  clear  to  the  hearer.  The 
thought  may  be  precisely  expressed,  yet  not  be  under- 
stood by  the  hearer.  It  may  be  clothed  in  unfamiliar 
English,  yet  with  no  want  of  precision.  You  may  so- 
liloquize your  thought  exactly:   you   do  not  thereby 

79 


80  ENGLISH   STYT.E.  [lect.  V". 

communicate  it  clearly.  Perspicuity  demands  an  ad- 
justment of  style  to  the  capacit}^  and  culture  of  an 
audience ;  precision,  only  an  adjustment  of  it  to  thp 
thought  of  the  speaker.  Profound  thinkers  are  not 
necessarily  expert  communicators.  Style,  then,  may  be 
precise,  and  not  perspicuous :  it  may  be  perspicuous,  and 
not  precise.  Connection  may  neutralize  the  want  of 
precision.  It  may  be  clear  that  a  speaker  means  what 
he  does  not  say.  One  may  not  always  easily  determine 
at  what  point  the  want  of  precision  passes  over  into  a 
want  of  perspicuity.  That  depends  on  the  quality  of 
the  hearing. 

To  recapitulate  these  distinctions :  propriety  requires 
only  good  English ;  precision  requires  such  a  choice  of 
good  English  as  shall  express  the  speaker's  mind ;  per- 
spicuity requires  such  a  choice  of  good  English  as  shall 
make  the  speaker's  mind  clear  to  the  hearer. 

II.  As  professional  speakers,  we  need  a  discussion  of 
precision  of  style,  chiefly  for  the  sake  of  observing  its 
most  important  violations.     What  are  they? 

1.  One  class  of  offenses  against  precision  concerns 
the  use  or  omission  of  single  words.  The  wrong  use  or 
omission  of  a  word  sometimes  affects  grammatical  con- 
struction, to  the  injury  of  this  quality.  "Certainly  I 
nor  any  man  has  a  right,"  etc. :  thus  writes  De  Quincey. 
Ungrammatical  structure  here  is  occasioned  by  the  omis- 
sion of  the  word  "  neither."  "  No  writer  was  ever  guilty 
of  so  much  false  and  absurd  criticism : "  thus  writes 
Macaulay  of  Sir  Horace  Walpole.  The  omission  of  the 
word  "  other  "  impairs  precision.  If  no  writer  was  ever 
thus  guilty,  then  Walpole  was  not  guilty.  But  Macaulay 
means  to  say  the  opposite.  Scores  of  instances  of  this 
offense  against  precision  are  found  in  Macaulay's  writ- 
ings.    A  model  of  precision  as  he  is  in  other  respects, 


LKCT.  VI. J       PRECISION   IN   THE   USE  OF   VERBS.  81 

he  seems  never  to  have  observed  the  nice  requirement  of 
our  syntax  in  this. 

The  word  "  it "  is  often  so  used  or  omitted  as  to  in- 
jure exactness  of  expression.  William  Cobbett  says\ 
"Never  put  an  'it'  on  paper  without  thinking  what 
you  are  about."  Often  the  thing  needs  to  be  expressed 
to  which  the  impersonal  pronoun  refers.  Sometimes 
the  demonstratives  "this"  or  "that"  need  to  be  substi- 
tuted for  "  it."  Your  reading,  if  your  attention  is  di- 
rected to  the  fact,  will  disclose  to  you  the  enormous 
amount  of  material  which  this  word  is  made  to  carry  in 
the  usage  of  authors.  The  freedom  of  its  use  exposes 
it  to  abuse.  The  possessive  case  of  "  it "  is  of  recent 
origin  in  the  language.  Our  English  translators  of  the 
Bible  did  not  recognize  it.  They  employed  "  his  "  for 
"  its."  The  impersonal  form  of  the  possessive  does  not 
occur  except  by  interpolation.  It  was  not  common  in 
King  James's  day. 

A  wrong  choice  of  single  words  leads  often  to  the 
loss  of  precision  in  the  moods  and  tenses  of  verbs.  "  I 
intended  to  go,"  "  I  had  intended  to  go,"  "  I  intended 
to  have  gone  "  —  these  forms  express  different  shades  of 
thought ;  yet  some  writers  use  them  interchangeably. 
-De  Quincey  writes:  "With  the  exception  of  Words- 
worth, no  celebrated  writer  of  this  day  has  written  a 
hundred  pages  consecutively  without  some  flagrant 
impropriety  of  grammar,  such  as  the  eternal  confusion 
of  the  preterite  with  the  past  participle,  confusion  of 
verbs  transitive  with  verbs  intransitive,  or  some  violation 
more  or  less  of  the  vernacular  idiom."  This  is  an  extrava- 
gant criticism,  but  it  indicates  the  general  impression 
left  by  a  voluminous  range  of  reading  upon  one  of  the 
keenest  of  modern  critics. 

One  of  the  permanent  questions  of  literary  criticism 


82  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [lect.  m 

.s  when  to  use  the  subjunctive  mood.  A  very  difificult 
question  it  is,  except  to  a  writer  whose  habit  of  criticrl 
observation  has  been  disciplined  by  extensive  reading 
of  the  best  authors.  jNIr.  Hallam  says  that  the  use  of 
misplaced  inflections  was  one  of  the  chief  things  in 
which  the  decadence  of  both  the  Greek  and  the  Latin 
lanjjuages  first  showed  itself.  Teachers  of  the  freedmen 
of  our  own  country  find  the  similar  defect  one  of  the 
most  difficult  things  to  correct  in  the  negro  dialect.  In 
that  dialect  it  often  extends  to  the  connection  of  differ- 
ent verbs  utterly  without  sense,  as  in  the  phrase  "  done 
gone."  A  singular  power  is  observable,  in  such  corrup- 
tions, to  migrate  from  one  language  to  another,  appar- 
ently through  the  national  blood.  Mr.  Livingstone  found, 
in  some  of  the  African  dialects,  phrases  corresponding 
to  this  "  done  gone  "  in  the  patois  of  the  Southern 
plantation. 

The  instinct  of  literary  taste  is  seldom,  if  ever,  suf 
ficient  to  guide  a  writer  in  the  use  of  the  verbal  moodfi 
and  tenses.  We  need  elaborate  study  of  them  with 
grammar  in  hand,  and  also  a  large  range  of  good  read- 
ing behind  to  determine  points  which  grammars  do  not 
specifically  treat.  Think  on  these  topics  with  the  pen ; 
write  down  errors  and  their  corrections,  and  fix  thus 
in  mind  the  underlying  philosophy  of  grammar.  I 
know  of  no  less  elaborate  method  by  which  one  can 
become  an  accomplished  scholar  in  English  idioms. 
The  majority  of  the  graduates  of  American  colleges 
understand  the  Latin  and  Greek  languages  more  philo- 
sophically than  they  do  the  English.  The  study  of  our 
own  tongue  as  the  subject  of  philosophical  analysis  is 
a  modern  addition  to  our  collegiate  curriculum.  How 
many  professors  of  English  literature  without  special 
training  are  qualified  thus  to  teach  it  ?     One  expedient 


LECT.  VI.]  THE   USE   OF   CONNECTIVES  83 

which  facilitates  the  study  of  it  is  to  stud  7  the  English 
verb  in  compariso  n  with  the  Greek  verb. 

This  suggests,  f\irther,  that  the  wrong  use  or  omission 
of  connective  word:j  is  often  the  occasion  of  looseness  of 
style.  The  superior  precision  of  the  Greek  tongue  is 
said,  by  those  who  are  experts  in  teaching  it,  to  be  in 
part  due  to  the  abundance  of  connectives  in  its  vocabu- 
lary. For  some  of  its  connective  particles  our  language 
has  no  equivalents ;  yet  such  as  we  have  serve  often  to 
knit  one^s  style  together  in  exact  and  forcible  colloca- 
tions. Coleridge  says  that  a  master  of  our  language 
may  be  known  by  his  skillful  use  of  connectives.  This 
is  one  secret  of  the  vigor  of  Coleridge's  own  style. 
His  prolonged  and  involuted  sentences  derive  from  this 
source  often  a  wonderful  continuity,  without  which  his 
profound  conceptions  could  not  find  adequate  expres- 
sion. In  order  to  represent  some  thoughts,  style  needs 
a  certain  sweep  of  sustained  expression,  like  the  sailing 
of  an  eagle  on  wings  of  scarcely  visible  vibration. 
Such,  often,  is  Coleridge's  style ;  and  his  command  of  it 
is  often  due  to  his  precise  use  of  connective  words.  It 
is  still  more  abundantly  and  grandly  illustrated  in  the 
Tirose  style  of  Milton.  Hence  arises  the  independence 
of  both  of  fragmentary  expression  such  as  the  majority 
of  writers  would  think  to  be  all  that  some  thoughts 
admit  of  in  human  speech.  Hence  their  freedom  from 
that  which  Southey  calls  the  "  Anglo-Gallican  style, 
whose  cementless  periods  are  understood  beforehand, 
they  are  so  free  from  all  the  connections  of  logic." 
Dr.  Arnold,  speaking  of  tl  is  feature  in  the  thinking  of 
Coleridge,  says  that  he  would  have  been  more  perfectly 
understood  if  he  had  written  in  classic  Greek. 

This  which  I  have  termed  the  "  involuted  style  "  is 
essential  to   the   loftiest   flights  of  eloquence   in   oral 


84  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [lect.  n. 

address.  No  man  can  be  supremely  eloquent  in  lacon 
Ics.  You  can  not  express  the  rising  and  the  expanding 
.ind  the  sweep,  and  the  circling  of  eloquent  thought 
borne  up  on  eloquent  feeling,  in  a  style  resembling  that 
which  seamen  call  "  a  chopping  sea."  For  such  think- 
ing, you  must  have  at  command  a  style  of  which  an 
oceanic  ground-swell,  or  the  Gothic  interweaving  of 
forest-trees,  is  the  more  becoming  symbol.  You  must 
have  long  sentences,  involved  sentences,  magnificent 
sentences,  euphonious  sentences,  sentences  which  invite 
a  rotund  and  lofty  delivery.  This  diction  is  often  cen- 
sured by  critics  as  "fine  writing."  But  you  must  have 
such  a  style  for  the  most  exact  utterance  of  certain 
elevated  and  impassioned  thoughts.  The  pulpit  can 
not  afford  to  ridicule  or  ignore  it.  Yet,  in  the  con- 
struction of  such  a  style,  you  must  use  connective 
words,  —  links  elaborately  forged,  inserted  in  the  right 
joints  of  style,  to  make  them  flexible  without  loss  of 
compactness.  One  word  of  such  exact  connective  force 
in  the  right  place,  with  the  right  surroundings  before 
and  after,  may  make  all  the  difference  between  a  dis- 
jointed and  a  linked  style. 

2.  Another  class  of  offenses  against  precision  concerns 
the  literal  and  the  figurative  uses  of  the  same  words. 
The  style  of  oral  address  naturally  multiplies  the  figura- 
tive uses  of  words.  There  is  something  in  the  corre- 
spondence of  eyes  between  a  speaker  and  his  hearers, 
which  prompts  the  use  of  pictorial  language  with  a  free- 
dom not  so  natural  to  the  style  of  books.  The  magnet- 
ism of  vision  invites  a  speaker  to  paint  his  thought  to 
the  waiting  and  eager  eyes  before  him.  Good  hearers 
are  always  good  spectators.  No  man  hears  perfectly 
with  his  eyes  shut. 

The  connection,  whether  in  oral  or  written  address, 


LECT.  VI.]  EXCESSIVE  FIGURE   IN   STYLE.  85 

ioes  not  always  determine  which  of  the  two  uses  of  a 
word,  the  literal  and  the  figurative,  an  author  means. 
What,  for  instance,  does  Aristotle  mean  when  he  speaks 
of  a  "perfect  thief"?  —  a  sinless  thief,  on  the  principle 
of  Spartan  ethics,  which  made  the  wrong  of  theft  con- 
sist in  its  detection  ?  or  a  thief  perfectly  trained  in  the 
arts  of  his  trade  ?  What  does  a  celebrated  English 
physician  mean,  when  he  describes  a  "beautiful  ulcer"? 

Excessive  figure  in  stjde  obviously  exposes  it  to  a 
loss  of  precision.  The  style  of  some  writers  is  a  winged 
chariot :  it  bears  up  every  thing  into  the  air,  soaring 
on  a  figurative  vocabulary.  A  reader  often  doubts  how 
much  is  figurative,  and  how  much  literal.  Something 
must  be  literal  in  any  sensible  style.  Good  sense  must 
have  literal  expression :  it  must  often  be  pedestrian. 
What  is  the  literal  conception  is  often  the  vexed  ques- 
tion. The  style  of  Ruskin  abounds  with  illustrations  of 
this.  I  turn  at  random  to  one  of  his  pages,  and  find 
a  description  of  the  flowing  of  a  brook  in  summer: 
"  Cressed  brook,  lifted,  even  in  flood,  scarcely  over  its 
stepping-stones,  but  through  all  sweet  summer  keeping 
tremulous  music  with  harp-strings  of  dark  water  among 
the  silver  fingering  of  the  pebbles."  A  precise  reader, 
accustomed  to  look  for  exact  ideas,  will  read  this  a 
second  time,  and  perhaps  not  even  then  discern  its 
meaning. 

A  notable  example  of  a  want  of  precision  in  theo- 
logical style,  occasioned  by  the  confounding  of  literal 
and  figurative  phraseology,  is  found  in  many  discussions 
of  human  ability  and  dependence.  Theological  science 
respecting  those  two  doctrines  hinges  primarily,  not  on  a 
theological,  but  on  a  rhetorical  distinction.  All  evan- 
gelical theologians  believe  both  those  doctrines.  But 
they  do  not  stultify  themselves  by  believing  both  in  the 


86  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [i.eci    vi 

same  senses  of  the  words  employed.  The  controversy 
turns  on  the  inquiry  which  of  the  two  crucial  terms  ia 
figurative,  and  which  is  literal.  The  believer  of  one 
school  affirms  that  "  ability  "  and  its  synonyms  are  the 
literal  words,  and  that  "inability"  and  its  equivalents 
are  figurative  words,  meaning  a  disinclination  which 
insures  wrong  action  and  sinful  character.  The  believer 
of  another  school  declares  that  "  dependence  "  and  its 
equivalents  are  the  literal  terms,  and  that  •'ability" 
and  its  synonyms  are  figurative  terms,  signifying  only 
the  possession  of  certain  constitutional  faculties,  which 
are  not  powers,  therefore  not  capable  of  use  in  right 
action  resulting  in  upright  character. 

Has  not  the  fact  arrested  your  attention,  that  these 
two  opposing  classes  of  terms  are  often  employed  in 
theological  discussion  with  an  unbounded  license  as  it 
respects  their  literal  and  their  figurative  senses  ?  They 
are  now  literal,  then  figurative,  and  then  literal  again. 
Some  disputants  agree  as  little  with  themselves  as  with 
each  other.  Their  own  definitions  do  not  bind  them. 
This  is  one  cause  of  the  dubiousness  of  many  essays  on 
the  will. 

3.  Another  class  of  offenses  against  precision  of 
style  consists  of  synonyms  confounded.  The  compos- 
ite structure  of  our  language  has  multiplied  synonyms 
immensely.  The  two  great  branches  of  the  language, 
the  Saxon  and  the  Norman,  have  specially  wrought  this 
result.  To  illustrate  the  extent  to  which  these  hetero- 
geneous elements  have  accumulated  synonyms,  let  a 
single  example  be  given,  which  I  take,  in  part,  from 
Mr.  Trench.  We  have  the  words  "  trick,"  "  device," 
"finesse,"  "artifice,"  "ruse,"  "stratagem,"  "maneuver," 
"  wile,"  "  intrigue,"  "  fraud,"  —  at  least  ten  words  to 
express  a  group  of  ideas  all  having  a  common  center 


£,ECT.  VI.]  CONFDSION   OF   SYNONYMS.  87 

Tlieae  words  are  contributions  from  five  different  stocka 
of  language.  "  Trick  "  and  "  wile  "  are  Saxon ;  "  device  " 
and  "  intrigue  "  are  Italian  ;  "  finesse,"  "  maneuver," 
"ruse,"  and  "intrigue  "  also,  are  French;  "artifice" 
and  "fraud"  are  Latin;  and  "stratagem"  is  Greek. 
We  have  more  than  thirty  words  to  express  different 
varieties  of  the  single  passion  of  anger.  It  is  obvious 
at  a  glance,  that,  in  this  multitude  of  synonyms,  our  lan- 
guage presents  great  facilities  for  looseness  of  diction. 

Some  writers  are  deceived  by  the  similarity  in  the 
orthography  of  certain  words.  Such  words  as  "ingenu- 
ous "  and  "  ingenious,"  "  guile  "  and  "  guilt,"  "  ficti- 
tious "  and  "  factitious,"  "  genius  "  and  "  genus,"  "  hu- 
man "  and  humane,"  "  depreciate "  and  "  deprecate," 
"extenuate"  and  "attenuate,"  "subtle"  and  "sub- 
tile," "  imperative  "  and  "  imperious,"  "  healthy  "  and 
"  healthful,"  "  impassable  "  and  "  impassible,"  "  con- 
jure "  and  "  cdnjure,"  are  often  confounded.  A  store- 
keeper gives  notice  in  his  window,  "Umbrellas  re- 
covered here."  What  does  he  mean?  —  "recovered" 
or  "  re-covered  "  ?  The  two  words  "  healthy "  and 
"  healthful "  are  so  frequently  interchanged,  that  our 
dictionaries  define  them,  in  part,  as  if  they  were  exact 
synonyms ;  which  they  are  not.  The  best  usage  of 
authors  expresses  by  one  of  them  the  state  of  health, 
and  by  the  other  the  act  of  producing  health. 
"Healthy"  is  "not  diseased:"  "healthful"  is  "tend- 
ing to  promote  health."  The  physician  implied  precise 
English,  w'.3n,  to  the  inquiry  whether  oysters  were 
"  healthy  "  at  certain  seasons,  he  replied,  "  I  have  never 
heard  one  complain  of  an  ache  or  an  ail."  The  distinc- 
tion between  these  two  words  is  parallel  to  that  of  a 
large  group  of  words  in  our  vocabulary,  by  which  we 
distinguish  between   a   condition,  and   a  tendency  to 


88  ENGLISH   STXLE.  [uBOT.  VI 

produce  it.  A  man  advertises  the  patent  for  a  propria 
tary  medicine  for  sale,  and  observes,  "  It  can  be  made 
very  profitable  to  the  undertaker. '''  Here  the  confound- 
ing of  the  general  with  the  technical  meanings  of  the 
last  word,  through  sameness  of  orthography,  gives  a 
very  dubious  commendation  to  the  drug. 

The  use  and  neglect  of  the  etymology  of  words  are 
often  the  occasion  of  a  loss  of  precision.  "  Sympathy  " 
and  "pity"  are  confounded  by  neglect  of  etymology. 
2w-7ra^os,  the  root  of  the  word  "sympathy,"  indicates 
a  much  finer  feeling  than  that  of  pity.  On  the  other 
hand,  more  often  still,  adherence  to  the  etymological 
sense  of  a  word,  when  that  sense  has  become  obsolete, 
impairs  precision. 

Command  of  the  etymological  senses  of  words  is  a 
rare  gift,  often  as  valuable  as  it  is  rare.  Sometimes  the 
etjTuological  idea  in  a  word  is  so  remote  from  its  real 
meaning,  that  the  use  of  it  amounts  to  an  original  figure, 
as  when  Mr.  Choate,  in  speaking  of  a  disappointed  can- 
didate for  office,  said,  "  The  convention  ejaculated  him 
out  of  the  window."  This  latent  force,  which  always 
lies  in  the  etymology  of  words,  tempts  writers  of  classic 
training  to  resort  to  it,  to  the  loss  of  precision.  Thus 
Bishop  Lowth  writes,  "  The  Emperor  Julian  very  judi- 
ciously planned  the  overthrow  of  Christianity."  Paley 
speaks  of  the  "judiciousness  of  God."  Guizot  writes 
of  the  "duplicity"  of  certain  of  Shakspeare's  plays, 
meaning  only  their  dual  structure.  Bancroft  writes  of 
the  "  versatility  "  of  the  English  Government,  meaning 
its  fickleness.  Alison  writes  of  the  cavalry  on  the 
retreat  from  Moscow,  as  "leading  their  extenuated 
horses  by  the  bridle : "  he  means  "  attenuated."  De 
Quince}''  speaks  of  "  chastity,"  meaning  "  chasteness," 
"of  taste."  He  speaks  also  of  a  "licentious"  stylei 
«7hen  he  means  a  style  rhetorically  loose. 


LBCT.  VI.]  ETYMOLOGICAL  MEAXENQS.  89 

In  all  these  cases,  even  in  Alison's  use  of  the  word 
"extenuated,"  the  obsolete  etymological  significations 
are  recalled,  and  allowed  to  displace  the  later  usage. 
If  a  writer  so  keen  of  eye  as  De  Quincey  can  commit 
this  error,  more  feeble  or  less  practiced  writers  must  be 
in  constant  peril  of  saying  what  they  do  not  mean.  No 
other  quality  of  a  good  style  demands  such  incessant 
care  as  this  of  precision.  One's  mind  must  be  wide- 
awake, and  always  awake,  in  its  choice  of  vocabulary. 
My  reading  leads  me  to  distrust  sweeping  commenda- 
tions of  authors  in  this  respect.  I  distrust  the  man  who 
claims  absolute  precision  of  style.  No  writer  within  my 
range  of  reading  can  substantiate  the  claim. 

4.  Not  single  words  only  may  impair  precision,  but  it 
is  often  sacrificed  by  defect  respecting  the  number  of 
words  employed.  Two  forms  of  error  in  this  respect 
lie  opposite  to  each  other. 

One  is  the  sacrifice  of  precision  through  excess  of  con- 
ciseness. In  the  manufacture  of  bullets,  one  part  of 
the  process  is  that  of  compressing  the  bulk  of  the  metal 
without  lessening  its  weight.  By  this  means  is  gained 
increase  of  momentum  in  the  discharge.  This  is  a 
pertinent  emblem  of  genuine  conciseness  in  style.  Only 
that  is  true  conciseness  which  compacts  thought  without 
loss  to  the  exactness  of  its  expression.  Precision  is 
impaired  if  words  are  not  numerous  enough  to  express 
the  whole  thought- 
Writers  who  affect  conciseness  inevitably  commit 
this  error.  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson  is  often  guilty  of  it, 
tln:ough  the  affectation  of  laconic  style.  Dr.  South  is 
not  always  free  from  it.  The  different  degrees  of  com- 
parison are  often  expressed  with  deficiency  of  words. 
"  As  many  and  even  more  hearers  were  assembled  than 
before."     What  is  the  defect  here  ?    The  writer  should 


do  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lbct.  vi 

have  said,  by  some  reconstruction,  "  As  many  as,  and 
even  more  than,"  etc.  The  inflections  of  verbs,  also, 
are  often  put  into  excessively  concise  forms.  "Men 
always  have  and  always  will  reject  the  doctrine  of  fatal- 
ism." What  is  the  error?  The  form  should  have  been, 
"Men  always  have  rejected,  and  always  will  reject," 
etc.  The  late  Rev.  Dr.  Sears,  writing  of  a  certain  rule 
in  German  grammar,  says,  "  If  this  rule  were  established 
in  all  languages,  this  subject  would  be  attended  witli 
fewer  difficulties  than  it  actually  is."  He  should  have 
said,  "  than  it  actually  is  attended  with." 

Some  errors  of  this  class  arise  from  hopeless  blunder- 
ing. Says  an  editor,  who  still  survives  the  achievement, 
"  Chaffee's  majority  was  thirteen  hundred  and  ninety- 
two,  — just  one  hundred  less  than  Christopher  Columbus 
discovered  America."  A  bridge  in  Denver,  a  few  years 
ago,  contained  this  record  of  municipal  law :  "  No  vehi- 
cle drawn  by  more  than  one  horse  is  allowed  to  cros? 
this  bridge  in  opposite  directions  at  the  same  time.' 
The  civil  code  of  California  once  contained  this  statute 
"All  marriages  of  white  persons  and  negroes  and  mulat 
toes  are  illegal  and  void."  Who  were,  then,  the  legall}- 
married  people  of  California?  None  but  the  Indians  and 
Chinese.  Such  errors,  or  their  equals  in  blundering 
expression,  will  occur  in  every  writer's  first  thoughts  oi 
construction  in  composing,  and  will  be  paralleled  in  his 
written  style  if  he  trusts  implicitly  to  first  thoughts. 
They  suggest  a  good  general  rule,  that  we  should  not 
shrink  from  repetition  of  words  if  that  is  necessary  to 
precision.  The  elegance  of  a  precise  style  is  often  dfe 
closed  where  the  precision  is  gained  by  repetition.  Ma 
caulay's  writings  abound  with  illustrations. 

Precision  may  be  sacrificed,  not  only  by  excessive 
conciseness,  but  by  its  opposite,  —  a  redundance  in  the 


6EOT.  VI.]  REDUNDANCE  IN   STYLE.  91 

number  of  words.  Writers  —  and,  still  more,  speakers 
—  are  exposed  to  this  error,  who  have  at  command  a 
diffuse  vocabulary.  A  voluminous  vocabulary  by  no 
means  insures  a  full  expression.  One  to  whom  thought 
comes  in  a  volume  of  words  may  express  more,  he  may 
express  less,  he  may  express  other,  than  his  real  meaning. 
He  to  whom  words  occur  with  difficulty  is  the  more  apt 
to  have  a  studied  expression,  and  therefore  an  exact 
expression. 

Looseness  from  redundance  is  specially  apt  to  occur 
in  speaking  on  difficult  themes  to  the  popular  mind. 
Under  such  conditions,  one  is  apt  to  explain,  to  qualify, 
to  repeat,  to  speak  in  circumlocutory  phrase,  to  experi- 
ment with  variations.  These  easily  overwhelm  the 
thought  with  words.  One  then  loses  precision  in  the 
effort  to  be  perspicuous.  Style  moves  aslant  and  askew 
in  the  struggle  to  move  at  all.  Sometimes  the  very 
struggle  to  be  precise  —  the  mind,  in  the  very  act  of 
composing,  being  intent  on  precision — may  defeat  itself. 
Here,  again,  thought  is  overborne  by  the  machinery  em- 
ployed to  give  it  utterance.  Writers  who  pride  them- 
selves on  philosophical  accuracy -are  apt  to  multiply 
qualifications,  and  circumstantial  incidents,  and  second- 
ary clauses,  and  parenthetical  inclosures,  so  that  no  pos- 
sible error  shall  be  affirmed ;  but  that  very  strain  after 
accuracy  defeats  its  aim  through  the  mere  expansion 
of  bulk  and  involution  of  connections.  When  a  dozen 
words  might  have  been  r.nderstood,  a  dozen  dozen  may 
fall  dead  on  the  ear. 

Edmund  Burke  sometimes  illustrates  this.  In  one  of 
his  elaborated  sentences  you  will  sometimes  find  words 
and  clauses  selected  and  multiplied  and  arranged  and 
compacted  and  qualified  and  defined  and  repeated,  foi 
the  very  purpose  of  extending  and  limiting  the  truth 


92  ENGLISH  STYLE.  lutcr.  vi 

to  its  exact  and  undoubted  measure.  He  obviously 
labors  to  say  just  what  he  means,  no  more,  no  less, 
no  other.  Still,  on  the  whole,  he  fails,  because  he  is 
so  elaborately  precise  in  details.  The  thought  is  suf- 
focated by  the  multitude  of  words  employed  to  give 
it  life.  It  is  buried  alive.  To  change  the  figure,  you 
can  divide  and  subdivide  a  field  into  so  many,  so 
small,  so  regular,  and  so  exact  patches,  that  the  chief 
impression  it  shall  leave  on  your  eye  is  that  of  the 
fences.  Similar  is  the  impression  of  an  excessively 
precise  style. 

Such  a  style  is  peculiarly  inapt  to  oral  delivery. 
That  which  gives  a  dim  idea  to  the  reader  may  give 
none  to  the  hearer.  A  style  which  must  be  critically 
analyzed  to  discover  its  contents  has  no  chance  in  the 
rapidity  of  oral  speech.  Beginning,  it  may  be,  with  a 
defect  in  precision,  it  ends  with  a  defect  in  perspicuity. 

5.  Precision  may  be  sacrificed  further  by  looseness 
of  construction.  This  class  of  errors  runs  parallel  to 
a  similar  class,  which  we  shall  have  occasion  to  consider 
in  the  study  of  perspicuity  of  style.  The  difference 
between  the  two  is  only  a  difference  of  degree.  The 
same  peculiarity  of  construction  which  in  one  degree  of 
it  is  an  example  of  looseness,  in  a  greater  degree 
becomes  an  example  of  obscurity.  To  avoid  repetition, 
therefore,  I  defer  illustrations  of  these  offenses  till  we 
are  led  to  recall  it  in  our  discussion  of  the  corresponding 
class,  on  the  subject  of  perspiciity. 


LECTURE  VII. 

THE  CAUSES  OP  THE  FORMATION  OP  A  LOOSE  STYLE. 

The  violations  of  precision  in  style  which  we  have 
considered,  we  may  assume  to  be  of  such  significance  aa 
to  give  importance  to  a  third  general  inquiry,  to  which 
we  now  proceed;  viz.,  what  are  the  chief  causes  of  a 
loose  style  ? 

1.  Of  these,  the  first  and  chief  is  the  habit  of  indis- 
criminate thinking.  Other  causes  will  give  way  to  time 
if  this  one  be  entirely  removed.  Let  a  speaker  habitu- 
ally think  with  exactness,  and  a  precise  style  will  be 
at  last  inevitable.  The  power  will  grow  to  meet  the 
demand  of  the  thinking  mind.  Such  is  the  subjective 
relation  of  language  to  thought,  that  the  mental  force 
which  originates  exact  thinking  will  at  length  command 
exact  expression. 

This  leads  me  to  remark  that  some  authors  and 
speakers  are  rather  prolific  than  precise.  Mental  force 
often  expends  itself  in  abundance  rather  than  exactness 
of  production.  The  diction  of  such  writers  will  proba- 
bly be  what  their  thinking  is.  Indeed,  all  active  minds 
are  rather  affluent  than  precise  at  a  certain  stage 
of  their  culture.  Luxuriance  of  production  precedes 
exact  thinking  in  the  order  of  time.  Precision  in  either 
thought  or  expression  belongs  to  the  manhood  of  culture, 
not  to  its  infancy.  Furthermore :  the  want  of  precise 
thinking  may  characterize  any  mind,  at  any  stage  of 

93 


94  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [uect.  vn 

culture,  on  some  subjects.  There  is  a  growth  of  sub 
jects,  as  well  as  a  growth  of  mind.  We  all  have  to  go 
through  the  chaotic  stage  of  growth  in  our  study  of  new 
themes.  We  must  make  allowance  for  this,  and  not 
look  for  precision  of  stylo  till  we  have  such  mastery  of 
a  subject  as  shall  give  us  precision  of  thought. 

It  is  worthy  of  note,  also,  that  some  men  never  ad- 
vance habitually  beyond  the  chaotic  stage  of  culture  in 
their  mastery  of  subjects.  They  are,  therefore,  never 
precise  writers.  Never  mastering  any  thing  to  the  full, 
they  can  never  say  any  thing  to  the  purpose,  beyond 
commonplaces.  I  have  in  mind  a  preacher  of  some 
celebrity,  who  had  great  enthusiasm  and  some  original- 
ity ;  but  he  never  was  an  exact  thinker,  therefore  never 
a  precise  writer,  on  any  thing.  In  controversy  he  was 
always  worsted,  because  be  could  never  write  in  that 
masterly  style  which  is  the  token  of  masterly  thinking. 
He  could  not  speak  his  mind  precisely,  because  he  had 
no  mind  precisely.  Ruskin  contends  for  a  similar  prin- 
ciple to  the  one  before  us,  in  the  kindred  art  of  painting. 
He  says,  "  Without  absolute  grasp  of  the  whole  sub  ■ 
ject,  there  is  no  good  painting.  Partial  conception  ii 
no  conception." 

Coleridge  lets  us  into  the  secret  of  much  which  it 
called  study,  and  is  not  such,  when,  in  a  letter  to  Words- 
worth, he  complains  that  he  loses  so  much  of  his  time 
in  "leaning  back  in  his  chair,  and  looking  up  to  the 
ceiling,  in  the  bodily  act  of  contracting  the  muscles  of 
the  brows  and  the  forehead,  and  unconsciously  attend- 
ing to  the  sensation."  If  the  secrets  of  ministerial 
studies  could  be  known,  we  should  probably  find  a  great 
deal  of  such  thinking,  —  the  thinking  of  an  idle  mind. 
The  style  of  some  preachers  gives  token  of  it.  It  is  a 
magic  mirror,  in  which  is  reflected  the  interior  of  theij 


LECT.  Tn,]  EXCESSIVE   CARE   FOR   STYLE.  95 

libraries.  We  see  the  sluggish  figure,  the  head  thi'own 
back,  the  wrinkled  eyebrows,  the  vacant  stare,  the 
languid  fiingers  when  they  take  the  pen. 

Be  it  remembered,  then,  that  the  foundation  of  pre- 
cision, as  of  all  other  qualities  of  masterly  discourse,  lies 
in  one's  habits  of  thinking  ;  not  in  one's  thoughts  on  a 
given  subject  alone,  but  in  one's  mental  habits.  Style, 
like  character,  is  the  mirror  of  habits.  The  thing  needed 
is  that,  which,  in  painting,  Ruskin  calls  the  "  power  of 
mental  grasp."  This,  he  says,  "implies  strange  and 
sublime  qualities  of  mind."  It  is  a  power  which  must 
be  elaborately  gained,  —  gained  by  thinking  on  difficult 
themes,  by  cultivating  mastery  of  such  themes,  till  they 
become  the  easy  and  natural  subjects  of  one's  daily 
meditations,  and  the  joy  of  one's  mental  life. 

2.  A  second  cause  of  the  formation  of  a  loose  style  is 
the  indulgence  of  excessive  care  for  expression  as  dis- 
tinct from  thought.  A  writer  is  often  anxious,  not  so 
much  to  say  somewhat  as  to  say  it  somehow.  Most  of 
the  faults  of  a  juvenile  style  result  from  this  cause. 
Diffuseness,  repetition,  bombast,  result  inevitably  from 
the  study  of  expression  as  distinct  "from  thought.  The 
temptation  is  constant  to  abandon  the  precise  word, 
known  to  be  the  precise  word,  felt  to  be  the  only  precise 
word,  and  to  go  roving  for  a  substitute  which  may  have 
every  quality  but  the  necessary  one  of  saying  what  is 
meant.  Watch  the  growth  of  an  emphatic  sentence  in 
your  own  mind.  Do  you  never  find  your  tentative 
efforts  to  frame  it  following  the  lead  of  a  favorite  turn 
of  expression,  which  is  not  the  lead  of  your  thought? 
Have  you  never  chosen  a  word  which  you  were  con- 
scious did  not,  so  well  as  another,  express  your  meaning, 
yet  chosen  it  because  it  was  a  novel  word,  or  an  odd 
word,  or  a  strong  word,  or  a  euphonious  word,  or  an 


96  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  vii 

aichaic  word?  Yet  that  is  mannerism  in  style.  It  ia 
not  honest  work. 

The  most  offensive  variety  of  the  error  in  question 
arises  from  a  morbid  fancy  for  some  one  quality  of  style, 
which  leads  a  speaker  to  be  constant!}^  on  the  strain. 
One  affects  the  beautiful ;  another,  the  forcible  ;  a  third, 
the  pathetic ;  a  fourth,  the  rhythmic.  Each  manufac- 
tures his  favorite  diction,  with  little  care  for  the  demands 
of  sentiment.  A  critic  is  tempted  to  sura  up  his  com- 
ments on  such  a  style  in  the  old  axiom  of  grammar,  that 
"words  are  the  signs  of  ideas."  Often  this  form  of  the 
defect  becomes  a  servile  imitation.  An  illustrious  au- 
thor who  has  a  marked  individuality  in  his  style  is  very 
apt  to  have  a  crowd  of  imitators.  That  which  is  original 
to  him  is  copy  to  them.  Their  own  individuality  is 
sacrificed  to  his.  Imitation  is  less  difficult  than  creation. 
The  extreme  of  the  evil  is,  that  the  copyist  not  only 
does  not  obey  the  bidding  of  his  own  thought,  but  he 
obeys  as  little  the  thought  of  his  model.  He  copies 
the  idiosyncrasy  of  the  style  of  his  model.  The  work 
is  all  patchwork,  put  on  from  outside  :  it  gives  no 
chance  for  the  outgrowth  of  thought  from  within.  It 
is  like  a  seashell  inclosing  the  body  of  a  bird. 

In  this  way,  at  one  period  arose  a  "  Chalmerian  " 
style,  and  again  a  "  Johnsonian "  style,  and  another, 
which  one  critic  has  labeled  as  "  Carlylese."  The  Scot- 
tish pulpit  for  one  entire  generation,  as  I  have  elsewhere 
remarked,  suffered  this  tyranny  of  the  style  of  Dr. 
Chalmers.  The  despotism  of  Dr.  Johnson's  style  in 
literature,  which  probably  he  himself  unconsciously 
received  from  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  was  perhaps  the 
most  powerful  that  English  literature  has  known  in  its 
whole  history.  A  writer  who  falls  into  servitude  to  his 
model  lives  a  disguised  life,  till  he  outlives  disguise,  and 


LECT.  vu.]  SERVITUDE  TO   MODELS.  97 

is  content  to  be  himself,  and  not  another.  His  style, 
till  then,  is  a  manufacture  of  lies,  yet  of  lies  which  are 
sure  to  be  detected.  Concealment  of  the  infirmity  is 
impossible.  Long  before  he  has  found  himself  out,  his 
style  blabs  it  to  every  discerning  critic. 

Even  so  manly  a  man  as  Robert  Hall  confesses  to 
having  fallen  in  his  early  life  into  subjection  to  the 
Johnsonian  dialect.  His  criticism  of  himself  illustrates 
with  what  scorn  a  robust  mind  will  fling  off  such  a  mask 
as  soon  as  it  discovers  that  there  is  a  mask.  He  says  of 
himself,  "  I  aped  Johnson,  I  preached  Johnson.  It  was 
a  youthful  folly,  a  very  great  folly.  I  might  as  well 
have  attempted  to  dance  a  hornpipe  in  the  dress  of  Gog 
and  Magog.  My  puny  thoughts  could  not  sustain  the 
load  of  words  in  which  I  tried  to  clothe  them." 

The  first  lesson  to  be  learned  by  a  young  writer,  yet 
often  the  last  that  is  learned,  is,  that  expression  is  to 
thought  what  countenance  is  to  character.  The  one 
can  not  exist  without  the  other.  Thought  is  the  fixture : 
expression  should  be  fluid  in  its  capacity  to  adapt  itself 
to  the  configuration  of  the  thought.  Hugh  Miller  gives 
a  hint  of  the  truth  in  his  criticisui  of  the  poet  Cowper. 
He  says,  "  Cowper  possessed,  above  all  other  modern 
poets,  the  power  of  bending  the  most  stubborn  and 
intractable  words  in  the  language  around  his  think- 
ing, so  as  to  fit  its  every  indentation  and  irregularity 
of  outline,  as  a  ship-carpenter  adjusts  the  planking, 
grown  flexible  in  his  hand,  to  the  exact  mold  of  his 
vessel." 

3.  Precision  often  suffers  from  another  cause,  which 
is  not  peculiar  to  this  quality,  but  affects  others  as  well. 
It  is  the  want  of  a  command  of  language.  This  may 
result  either  from  natural  defect,  or  from  the  want  of 
studious  practice  in  the  use  of  the  language.     A  speaker 


98  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [LBor.  vii 

can  not  express  his  thought  if  he  can  not  command  the 
requisite  vocabulary. 

EXCURSUS. 

Let  the  inquiry  be  here  considered  as  an  excursus : 
How  can  the  want  of  a  command  of  language  be  rem- 
edied ?  The  inquiry  is  pertinent  to  all  the  qualities  of 
a  good  style,  though  especially  so  to  the  one  before 
us.  In  the  first  place,  be  it  observed  with  emphasis, 
that  command  of  language  is  not  attainable  by  the  mere 
accumulation  of  words  in  a  ready  memory.  Vocabu- 
lary alone  may  stifle  thought.  A  true  command  of  lan- 
guage consists  in  a  command  of  the  forces  of  expression 
which  the  language  carries.  With  emphasis,  it  is  a 
command  of  language.  It  consists  in  the  power  of  selec- 
tion and  rejection,  rather  than  in  that  of  accumulation. 
It  is  the  power  to  use  and  to  lay  the  spirits,  as  well  as 
to  summon  them.  Command  of  words,  and  command 
of  the  linguistic  forces,  are  by  no  means  one  thing. 
Words  come  in  troops  at  the  bidding  of  one  man :  they 
fall  into  rank  at  the  bidding  of  another. 

These  two  varieties  of  power  are  illustrated  in  the 
styles  of  Daniel  Webster  and  Rufus  Choate.  Both 
were  powerful  speakers ;  but  Webster  was  the  superior, 
because  of  his  superior  power  of  selection.  Much  as 
one  is  dazzled  by  Choate's  marvelous  command  of  vo- 
cabulary, still  one  can  not  avoid  thinking  of  his  style 
in  the  reading.  That  always  indicates  a  defect.  An 
absolutely  perfect  style  attracts  no  attention  to  itself. 
Criticism  of  it  is  an  after-thought.  jNIembers  of  the 
Boston  bar  all  alike  yielded  to  the  spell  of  Choate's 
rhetoric ;  yet,  m  the  very  act  of  admiring,  they  found 
leisure  to  note  that  he  "  drove  the  substantive  and  six," 
alluding  to  the  multitude  of  adjectives  wliicli  he  hai- 


LECT.  vn.j  coioiAND  or  langttacje.  99 

nessed  to  a  noun.  Men  with  tears  coursing  dawn  tlieii 
cheeks,  in  listening  to  his  sonorous  periods  in  his  eulogy 
upon  Webster  yet  slily  made  a  memorandum  that  they 
would  count  the  words  in  some  of » those  periods  when 
they  should  be  printed,  and  afterwards  remarked,  that 
one  of  them  was  the  longest  but  one  in  the  English 
language.  Who  ever  heard  of  any  such  arithmetical 
criticism  of  Webster's  reply  to  Gen.  Hayne  of  South 
Carolina  ?  When  Choate  spoke,  men  said,  "  What  a 
marvelous  style  !  How  beautiful !  how  grand !  how 
immense  his  vocabulary !  how  intricate  his  combina- 
tions !  how  adroit  his  sway  over  the  mother-tongue  !  " 
When  Webster  spoke,  men  said,  "He  will  gain  his 
case."  Webster's  vocabulary  was  much  more  limited 
than  that  of  Choate,  but  he  had  a  much  sterner  power 
of  selection  and  rejection.  His  command  of  language 
was  like  Darwin's  law  of  species  in  the  struggle  for 
existence,  —  only  that  lived  which  deserved  to  live. 

The  most  effective,  indeed,  the  only  effective  means 
of  obtaining  command  of  the  forces  of  expression  which 
the  language  contains,  is  the  persistent  union  of  a  criti- 
cal study  of  the  language  with  its"  critical  use.  Lan- 
guage needs  to  be  searched.  Words  need  to  be  weighed. 
Then  use  must  make  them  familiar  and  ready  to  the 
pen  or  tongue.  In  oral  delivery,  words  vary  in  their 
momentum.  We  need  to  graduate  their  movement  by 
unconscious  thought  which  shall  guide  selection  to  Ihe 
purpose.  A  speaker  makes  a  great  acquisition  when  he 
adds  to  his  practicable  vocabulary  one  new  word  of 
which  he  has  entire  mastery.  Mastery  of  a  word  means 
more  thaii  is  commonly  understood  by  it:  it  includes 
knowledge  of  all  the  shades  of  thought  which  good  use 
attaches  to  the  definition  of  a  word.  Look  at  Noah 
Webster's  definitions  of  standard  words.    Are  you  never 


100  ENGLISH  STYLE.  fLBCr.  to. 

Burprised,  as  by  a  discovery,  at  the  secondary  senses  of 
a  word  which  j^ou  tliought  jon  knew  by  heart?  Do  we 
not  all  know  something  of  the  experience  of  which  Mr. 
Maurice  speaks,  when  he  says  that  "  a  light  flashes  out 
of  a  word  sometimes  which  frightens  one.  If  it  is  a 
common  word  .  .  .  one  wonders  how  one  has  dared  to 
use  it  so  frequently  and  so  carelessly,  when  there  were 
such  meanings  hidden  in  it." 

Command  of  a  word  implies  also  knowledge  of  its 
synonyms.  Words  have  a  science  corresponding  to  that 
of  comparative  anatomy.  No  man  knows  a  word  all 
around,  till  he  knows  in  what  and  why  it  is  superior, 
or  not  so,  to  its  synonyms.  Such  knowledge  includes, 
further,  perception  of  the  forces  of  a  word  in  varieties 
of  connection.  The  life  of  a  word,  like  that  of  a  tree, 
is  seldom  in  one  tap-root,  so  that  it  always  signifies  the 
same  thing,  and  carries  the  same  weight,  and  gives  to 
thought  the  same  momentum  in  oral  speech.  It  com- 
monly has  fibers,  by  which  connection  modifies  force. 
Look  at  the  idiomatic  phrases  in  our  language,  of  which 
the  word  "  come  "  is  the  center,  —  "  come  at,"  "  come 
to,"  "  come  short,"  "  come  off,"  "  come  by."  See  Web- 
ster's Dictionary. 

Mastery  of  a  word  involves,  also,  knowledge  of  its 
possible  figurative  uses ;  not  only  of  those  which  dic- 
tionaries define,  but  of  other  forces  which  a  writer  may 
originate  by  a  figurative  combination.  The  heavy  pre- 
ponderance of  the  weights  of  language  is  in  the  scale  of 
its  figurative  senses.  Analogies  connect  all  words  with 
aU  words.  By  means  of  figurative  speech,  all  depart- 
ments of  thought  illumine  each  other.  Originality  in 
style  appears  chiefly  in  the  discovery  of  analogies,  and 
fitting  them  to  use.  Who  but  DeQuincey,  for  instance, 
would  ever  have  discovered  the  analogies  of  though!;. 


tKOT.  yu.]  STUDY  OF  WORDS.  101 

which  enabled  him  to  describe  in  a  brej  fch  the  style  of 
Dr.  Johnson  by  calling  it  the  "  pletlic  ric  tympany  0/ 
style  "?  Yet  all  language  is  veined  by  such  analogies, 
in  which  every  writer  may  range  at  will. 

Once  more  :  mastery  of  language  includes  a  retentive 
control  of  a  vocabulary  and  of  varieties  of  English  con- 
struction, by  which  they  shall  always  be  at  hand  for 
unconscious  use.  Do  we  not  often  fret  for  the  right 
word,  which  is  just  outside  of  the  closed  door  of  memo- 
ry ?  We  know  that  there  is  such  a  word  ;  we  know 
that  it  is  precisely  the  word  we  want ;  no  other  can  fill 
its  place ;  we  saw  it  mentally  a  short  half-hour  ago :  but 
we  beat  the  air  for  it  now.  The  power  we  crave  is  the 
power  to  store  words  within  reach,  and  hold  them  in 
mental  reserve  till  they  are  wanted,  and  then  to  sum- 
mon them  by  the  unconscious  vibration  of  a  thought. 
Nothing  can  give  it  to  us  but  study  and  use  of  the 
language  in  long-continued  and  critical  practice.  It  is 
the  slow  fruitage  of  a  growing  mind. 

Walter  Scott,  for  instance,  saunters  through  the  streets 
of  Edinburgh,  and  overhears  a  word,  which,  in  its  collo- 
quial connections,  expresses  a  shade  of  thought  which  is 
novel  to  him.  He  pauses,  and  makes  a  note  of  it,  and 
walks  on,  pondering  it,  till  it  has  made  a  nest  for  itself 
m  his  brain ;  and  at  length  that  word  re-appears  in 
one  of  the  most  graphic  scenes  in  the  "Fortunes  of 
Nigel." 

Dr.  Chalmers  is  summoned  at  midnight  to  minister  to 
a  Highland  woman  on  her  death-bed.  She  has  no  prac- 
tical notion  of  faith  in  Christ.  He  tries  to  explain  it, 
but  she  gets  no  idea  of  his  meaning.  He  endeavors  to 
simplify  it.  He  reverts  to  the  Westminster  Catechism, 
wiiich  she  knows  by  heart ;  he  falls  back  upon  biblical 
phrases:   it  is  all  in  vain.     Under  the  overshadowing 


102  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  vn 

dread  of  death  she  finds  nothing  in  her  inhorited  con 
ceptions  of  the  way  of  salvation  which  gives  her  peace. 
At  length  he  remembers  to  have  been  himself  impressed 
by  the  force  of  a  word  in  the  provincial  dialect  of  his 
youth,  and  he  resolves  to  try  that  with  the  despairing 
woman.  He  says,  "  Just  lippen  to  the  Lord  Jesus." 
Now  he  has  got  hold  of  a  thing  she  understands ;  she 
grasps  his  thought  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  The 
mystery  of  justification  by  faith,  which  her  mind  has 
droned  over  in  catechism  and  sermon  for  threescore 
years,  opens  to  her  vision  like  tlie  gates  of  heaven. 

Washington  Irving  relates,  that  he  was  once  riding 
with  Thomas  Moore  in  Paris,  when  the  hackney-coach 
■went  suddenly  mto  a  rut,  out  of  which  it  came  with 
such  a  jolt  as  to  send  their  heads  bumping  against  the 
roof.  "  By  Jove,  I've  got  it ! "  cried  Moore,  clapping  his 
hands  with  great  glee.  "Got  what?"  said  Irving. 
"Why,"  said  the  poet,  "that  word  which  I've  been 
hunting  for  for  six  weeks  to  complete  my  last  song. 
That  rascally  driver  has  jolted  it  out  of  me." 

The  late  Hon.  Caleb  Gushing  of  Massachusetts  spent 
the  larger  part  of  his  mature  life  as  a  member  of  legis- 
lative bodies.  For  years  he  was  the  Mentor  of  the 
Massachusetts  Legislature  at  a  time  when  his  politics 
put  him  always  in  a  minority  on  any  political  measure. 
Yet  he  saved  the  State  from  much  unconstitutional 
legislation  by  his  power  of  command  over  the  English 
language.  It  has  been  said  that  no  suit  at  law  is  known 
to  have  been  brought  into  court  by  any  lawyer,  in  which 
the  success  of  the  suit  depended  on  proving  to  be  uncon- 
stitutional or  defective  any  statute  of  which  Galeb  Gush- 
ing had  the  control  in  the  committee  which  framed  it. 
He  was  able  to  say,  anvi  to  assist  legislators  to  say,  so 
exactly  what  was  meant,  that  no  clear-headed  advocate 


LKCT.  vii.J  SCHOLAELY   READING.  103 

could  misunderstand  the  statute,  or  find  a  flaw  in  it  by 
which  to  sustain  a  lawsuit.  The  explanation  of  that 
rare  power  of  his,  of  precise  utterance,  as  given  by  those 
who  knew  him  best,  is,  that  he  read  and  conversed  in 
half  a  dozen  languages,  and  made  language  the  study 
of  his  life.  In  the  convention  for  the  settlement  of  the 
"  Alabama  Claims  "  he  was  the  only  man  who  could 
converse  intelligibly  with  all  the  members  of  the  con- 
vention in  their  several  vernaculars. 

These  examples  from  real  life  all  point  one  way. 
They  illustrate  the  value  of  studies  of  language  in  any 
department  of  public  life.  By  such  studies,  when  com- 
bined with  scholarly  use  of  language  in  a  laborious 
profession,  a  man  masters  words  singly,  words  in  combi- 
nation, words  in  varieties  of  sense,  words  in  figurative 
uses,  and  those  forces  of  expression  which  always  lie 
latent  in  original  uses  of  one's  mother-tongue.  No  such 
command  of  a  word  is  ever  permanently  lost. 

Let  it  be  further  observed,  though  the  fact  be  hack- 
neyed, that  such  command  of  language  as  a  public 
speaker  needs  is  assisted  by  a  range  of  reading  of  stand- 
ard literature  which  shall  be  as"  various  as  it  can  be, 
and  yet  be  the  reading  of  a  scholar.  Illustrious  authors 
have  always  something  original  in  their  uses  of  language. 
New  words,  new  constructions,  new  significations,  or 
figurative  uses  of  words,  are  found  in  their  diction,  by 
which  they  have  enriched  the  resources  of  public  speech. 
Standard  literature  is  a  treasury  of  linguistic  varieties 
from  which  orators  may  draw  at  will.  Sometimes  dis- 
tinctions are  brought  to  light  which  have  been  latent  in 
the  language  till  a  certain  author  has  called  attention 
to  them,  like  that  which  Wordsworth  exhumed  between 
"  fancy  "  and  "  imagination,"  or  that  which  Coleridge 
claimed  between  "  reason  "  and  "  unde  "standing."     A\ 


104  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lkct.  vii. 

most  every  great  mind  adds,  to  the  resources  of  the 
language  which  it  employs  as  its  vehicle  of  thought, 
something  a  knowledge  of  which  will  instruct  and  refine 
an  orator's  taste. 

Such  writers  as  Edmund  Burke,  Coleridge,  Isaac 
Taylor,  and,  going  farther  back,  Jeremy  Taylor,  Milton, 
and  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  by  simply  compelling  language 
into  the  service  of  original  and  intense  thinking,  de- 
velop new  power  in  the  language  to  express  thought. 
Passionate,  imaginative  thinking,  like  that  of  the  old 
poets,  illuminates  language  by  the  very  heat  and  glow 
of  the  material  it  is  made  to  carry.  The  literary  work 
of  such  minds  is  a  work  of  pure  invention.  In  the  arts 
it  would  be  rewarded  by  a  patent.  As  a  thing  of  use 
to  a  public  speaker,  the  language  is  the  more  valuable 
for  having  been  thus  used  by  his  predecessors,  if  he 
has  a  scholarly  knowledge  of  their  work.  Reading, 
therefore,  which  covers  as  broad  a  range  of  litera- 
ture as  critical  reading  can  cover,  is  a  necessary  ad- 
junct to  a  speaker's  studies.  Rufus  Choate  writes  in 
his  diary,  "I  have  long  been  in  the  habit  of  reading 
daily  some  first-class  English  author,  chiefly  for  the 
copia  verborum,  to  avoid  sinking  into  cheap  and  bald 
fluency,  to  give  elevation,  dignity,  sonorousness,  and 
refinement  to  my  vocabulary."  This  hint  discloses  to 
us  one  of  the  sources  of  his  magnificent  and  superabun- 
dant diction. 

Before  closing  this  excursus  on  command  of  language, 
let  two  facts  be  named  for  the  encouragement  of  young 
writers  and  speakers.  One  is,  that  a  genuine  command 
of  language  is  an  acquisition,  never  a  gift.  There  is  a 
certain  leakage  of  words,  which  popular  slang  defines  as 
*'  the  gift  of  the  gab,"  which  may  be  a  gift,  but  is  no 
sign  of  control  over  one's  mother-tongue,  but  the  reverse 


LECT.  vn.]  ELOQUENCE  NOT  A  GIFT.  105 

rather.  That  control  is  an  acquisition  by  the  ablest  as 
by  the  most  feeble  writers.  We  read  the  writings  of 
De  Quincey  with  a  discouraging  admiration  of  his  mar- 
velous uses  of  English.  Whatever  other  excellence 
he  has  not,  he  certainly  has  this,  of  the  power  to  sum- 
mon and  put  to  use  a  large  and  forcible  vocabulary. 
The  exuberance  of  his  style  is  excessive.  The  growth 
is  rank.  Yet  he  tells  us  that  in  early  life  he  labored 
under  a  "  peculiar  penury  of  words."  He  regarded  the 
infirmity  of  his  mind  in  that  respect  as  extreme.  It 
gave  him,  he  says,  "  a  distinguished  talent  for  silence." 
What  young  preacher  does  not  know  the  experience  of 
that  "  distinguished  talent  for  silence  "  ?  De  Quincey's 
acquired  power  of  utterance  is  finely  illustrated  in  his 
subsequent  description  of  his  early  reticence.  He  sa3'"S, 
"  I  labored  like  a  Sibyl  instinct  with  prophetic  woe,  as 
often  as  I  found  myself  dealing  with  any  topic  in  which 
the  understanding  combined  with  deep  feelings  to  sug- 
gest mixed  and  tangled  thoughts."  He  adds,  that 
Wordsworth  also  suffered  in  early  manhood  from  the 
same  cause.  In  both  cases,  doubtless,  the  ultimate 
affluence  of  style  was  an  acquisition.  It  was  a  la- 
borious acquisition.  It  grew  hardily  and  thriftily,  as 
an  oak  does,  out  of  the  very  toughness  of  the  native 
soil. 

Such  examples  should  assure  us  that  language  will 
obey  our  bidding,  to  an  extent  sufficient  for  forceful 
speech,  if  we  command  it  by  the  authority  of  thoughts 
which  deserve  expression,  and  a  study  of  language  which 
shall  discover  the  means  of  expression.  We  can  say  what 
we  mean  if  we  have  a  meaning  that  is  worth  the  saying. 
We  have  only  to  put  our  whole  souls  into  the  saying. 
Every  man  can  grow  to  the  extreme  of  his  literary 
Aspirations. 


106  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [lbct.  vu 

The  other  fact  to  be  remembered  for  our  encourage- 
ment is,  that  the  vocabuLary  which  is  necessary  to 
effective  speech  is  much  less  voluminous  than  is  often 
supposed.  Our  language,  it  is  estimated,  contains  about 
one  hundred  and  twenty-five  thousand  words ;  yet,  of 
this  immense  number,  it  is  surprising  how  few  are  in 
common  use.  The  majority  even  of  educated  men,  it 
is  believed  by  careful  critics,  not  only  do  not  use  more 
than  one-tenth  of  them,  but  would  not  recognize  more 
than  that  as  having  been  met  with  in  their  reading. 
The  obsolete  and  obsolescent  words,  the  vulgarisms, 
the  provincialisms,  the  terms  technical  to  the  arts  and 
the  professions,  the  imports  from  other  languages,  the 
words  of  recent  coinage  which  have  not  acquired  natu- 
ralization in  the  language,  and  the  words  which  a 
public  speaker  would  not  employ  twice  in  a  lifetime, 
probably  comprise  by  far  the  larger  part  of  Webster's 
Dictionary. 

I  have  seen  it  stated  on  scholarly  authority,  that  a 
child  does  not  commonly  use  more  than  a  hundred 
words ;  and,  unless  he  belongs  to  a  cultivated  family, 
he  will  never  habitually  employ  more  than  three  or 
four  hundred.  An  eminent  American  scholar  estimates 
that  few  practiced  writers  or  speakers  use  as  many  as 
ten  thousand  words  in  threescore  years  of  public  life. 
Speakers  employ  not  so  many,  by  a  large  count,  as 
writers  employ.  Max  Miiller  says,  that  "a  well  edu- 
cated person  who  has  been  at  a  public  school  in  Eng- 
land and  at  an  English  university,  who  reads  his  Bible 
and  Shakspeare,  and  all  the  books  in  Mudie's  Library, 
that  is,  nineteen-twentieths  of  all  the  books  publishea 
in  England,  seldom  uses  more  than  three  or  four  thou- 
sand words  in  actual  conversation."  Eloquent  speak- 
ers, he  thinks,  may  rise  to  a  command  of  ten  thousand. 


LECT.  vn.]  IfllKLY   CULTURE.  107 

"  Even  Milton,"  writes  another  critic,  —  "  Milton,  whose 
wealth  of  words  seems  amazing,  and  whom  Dr.  Johnson 
charges  with  using  a  Babylonish  dialect,  uses  only  about 
eight  thousand ;  and  Shakspeare  '  the  myriad-minded,' 
only  fifteen  thousand."  The  Old  Testament  contains 
less  by  some  hundreds  than  six  thousand  words.  These 
facts  go  to  show  that  a  scholarly  mastery  of  an  English 
vocabulary,  large  and  varied  enough  for  forcible  public 
speech  such  as  the  themes  of  the  pulpit  require,  ought 
not  to  be  looked  upon  with  awe,  as  an  impossible  or 
very  difficult  achievement. 

4.  Returning,  now,  from  the  excursus  upon  the  topic  of 
command  of  language,  let  us  pass  to  consider  a  fourth 
cause  of  the  formation  of  a  loose  style ;  which  is  an 
uncritical  admiration  for  loose  writers.  We  err  through 
our  involuntary  tastes  more  seriously  than  through  our 
literary  judgment.  Every  young  man  passes  through  a 
period  of  his  growth  in  which  his  tastes  predispose  him 
to  yield  homage  to  some  writers,  and  not  to  others.  He 
feels  unaccountable  attractions,  like  that  of  the  hazel-rod 
for  the  subterranean  spring.  That  secret  affinity  may 
give  an  author,  or  a  small  group  of  authors  kindred  to 
each  other,  a  power  of  control  over  the  early  drift  of  his 
culture.  If  such  authors  are  loose  in  their  use  of  the 
language,  he  may  receive  influences  unfriendly  to  his 
style  from  which  he  may  never  recover.  Coming  upon 
a  fascinating  volume  by  chance  may  give  a  turn  to 
his  whole  life.  Dr.  Franklin  was  controlled  thus,  as  he 
thought,  by  a  single  volume  by  De  Foe,  read  when  Frank- 
lin was  a  young  man.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  writes,  that 
his  tastes  were  swayed  in  a  similar  manner  by  a  treatise 
of  Richardson's. 

Great  importance  is  clearly  to  be  attached  to  such 


108  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [LECr.  vu 

early  favtirites  of  a  young  man  when  his  style  is  form« 
ing.  If  he  does  not  form  a  taste  for  schokrly  precision 
then,  he  is  not  likely  ever  to  form  it.  A  certahi  peculi- 
arity of  shadow,  it  is  said  by  critics  of  art,  is  percepti- 
ble in  all  the  paintings  of  Rembrandt.  Experts  have 
attributed  it  to  the  fact  that  his  father's  mill,  in  which 
his  early  studies  of  his  art  were  practiced,  received  its 
light  through  an  aperture  in  the  roof.  So  it  is  in  the 
kindred  art  of  literary  composition.  A  very  insignifi- 
cant fascination  by  a  very  inferior  author  may  give  to  a 
young  man's  style  a  monotone  which  shall  last  through 
a  lifetime.  Precision  especially  is  one  of  those  products 
of  scholarly  taste  which  is  not  apt  to  attract  a  man  for 
the  first  time  in  middle  life  or  old  age.  Youth  must 
plant  it,  or  it  will  not  flourish  in  mature  age. 

5.  A  loose  style  sometimes  results  from  an  indiscrimi- 
nate dependence  on  dictionaries  of  the  language.  I 
have  before  said,  that  our  standard  dictionaries  are  not, 
and  do  not  profess  to  be,  absolute  authorities  respecting 
purity  of  diction.  Neither  are  they  such  respecting 
precision.  A  public  speaker  needs  a  culture  of  taste 
and  a  range  of  reading  which  shall  enable  him  to  sit  in 
judgment  on  the  dictionaries,  and,  if  need  be,  to  dissent 
from  them  with  a  reason.  For  example,  one  dictionary 
gives  a  definition  to  a  certain  word  for  which  the  only 
authority  given  is  President  Polk.  In  another  appears 
a  signification  attached  to  a  word  on  the  autho/ity  of 
"  Mr.  Smith."  There  is  a  dictionary  in  England  com- 
piled by  that  unfortunate  man,  but  who  knows  him? 
Who  ever  heard  elsewhere  of  President  Polk  as  a  liter- 
ar}'  authority  ?  He  had  scarcely  the  average  c  ilture  of 
a  Tennessee  planter.  So  long  as  dictionaries  defer  to 
such  authorities,  tMey  can  not  be  trusted  for  a  scholar's 
use  of  the  language,  without  supervision  and  censor 


r.ECT    vii.J  SPEAKING   AND   WBITING.  109 

«hip  by  that  fine  perception  of  the  forces  of  words 
which  is  the  fruit  of  choice  yet  extensive  reading.  If 
you  write  or  speak  with  the  license  of  using  any  word 
in  any  sense  which  President  Polk  has  coined,  or  which 
"  Mr.  Smith "  commends  in  any  dictionary,  your  style 
must  degenerate  below  the  average  intelligence  of  Amer- 
ican assemblies. 

6.  One  cause  of  the  formation  of  a  loose  style  remains 
to  be  named  with  brief  remark :  it  is  a  disproportioned 
amount  of  extemporaneous  speech  as  compared  with  the 
products  of  the  pen.  Extemporizing  promotes  fluency 
of  speech :  the  pen  promotes  precision.  For  the  most 
perfect  results  in  the  character  of  a  preacher's  style,  in 
my  judgment,  these  two  methods  of  sermonizing  should 
be  practiced  with  as  near  an  approach  as  possible  to 
equality  of  amount.  This  medium  is  rarely  gained. 
Defects  respecting  both  methods  are  usually  the  two 
extremes.  Preachers  are  prone  either  to  extemporize 
always,  or  to  write  always. 

A  high  standard  of  extemporaneous  preaching  will 
often  drive  a  man  to  his  pen  for  relief.  This  was 
illustrated  in  the  experience  of  Dr.  Chalmers.  In  his 
early  attempts  to  acquire  extemporaneous  fluency  he 
failed ;  because  his  standard  was,  for  him  at  that  period, 
impracticably  high.  He  could  not  be  content  without 
expressing  in  extemporaneous  diction  all  that  he  could 
express  with  the  pen.  When,  in  the  excitement  of 
speaking,  thought  began  to  crowd  his  utterance,  he 
began  to  hesitate,  merely  because  his  thought  so  im- 
mensely overflowed  and  swamped  his  utterance.  He 
compared  his  extemporaneous  efforts  to  a  bottle  filled 
with  water,  and  suddenly  turned  upside  down.  The 
contents,  he  said,  were  ejected  "  with  jerks,  and  large 
explosions,  and  sudden  stops."     The  bottle  was  choked 


no  Ei^QLISH   STYLE.  [LEcr.  vii 

by  its  own  fullness.  Such  a  delivery  of  his  thought  so 
disgusted  and  disheartened  hiui,  that  he  thought  it  a 
hopeless  failure ;  and,  after  repeated  trials,  he  fell  back 
upon  his  pen  as  a  relief.  With  pen  in  hand,  he  could 
say  what  he  meant :  without  it,  he  said  any  thing  else 
than  what  he  meant.  His  mistake  was  that  of  crowding 
his  extemporaneous  culture  up  to  a  perfect  ideal  at  the 
outset.  He  allowed  it  no  time  to  grow  by  natural  and 
easy  increments. 

But  a  moderately  high  ideal  of  extemporaneous  speech 
is  an  admirable  check  on  the  extreme  of  extemporaneous 
fluency.  Our  American  ideal  is  not  the  highest.  In 
the  pulpit,  especially,  we  have  but  little  of  the  elaborate, 
the  elevated,  the  senatorial  style  of  extemporaneous 
expression.  The  tendency  of  such  as  we  have,  if  it  is 
not  overruled  by  a  due  proportion  of  written  sermoniz- 
ing, is  to  the  extreme  of  diffuseness ;  and  a  diffuse  style 
is  never  a  precise  style.  Did  you  ever  see  a  rank  and 
top-heavy  growth  of  clover  just  after  a  thunder-storm? 
Such  is  apt  to  be  the  style  of  a  preacher  who  always 
extemporizes.  The  gushing  enthusiasm  of  extempora- 
neous delivery  is  apt  to  cast  the  style  in  inextricable 
confusioa. 


LECTURE   VIII. 

THE  INDUCEMENTS  TO  THE  CULTIVATION  OP  FRECISIO> 
OF  STYLE  BY  A  PUBLIC  SPEAKER. 

The  only  branch  of  the  subject  before  us  which 
remains  to  be  considered  is  the  inquiry,  Why  should  a 
speaker  to  a  promiscuous  assembly  be  scrupulous  to 
cultivate  a  precise  style  ?  Scarcely  any  other  quality  of 
speech  has  been  made  the  object  of  so  much  impatient 
and  sarcastic  criticism  as  this  of  precision.  Men  asso- 
ciate it  with  insipidity. 

Quintilian  said  of  a  certain  author,  and  it  has  been 
repeated  of  scores  of  others,  for  it  is  the  keenest  remark 
that  Quintilian  ever  made,  "  that  his  greatest  excellence 
was,  that  he  had  no  faults ;  and  his  greatest  fault,  that 
he  had  no  excellences."  This  is  often  nearly  the  popu- 
lar idea  of  a  precise  style.  Preciseness  in  manners  is 
ranked  as  its  twin-brother.  Robust  men  are  not  charmed 
with  prigs  in  oral  speech  any  more  than  in  morals.  It 
is  instructive  to  observe  the  complacency  with  which 
some  educated  men  will  express  contempt  for  the  class 
of  studies  which  that  of  precision  represents.  I  once 
inquired  of  a  celebrated  preacher  what  principles  he 
followed  in  regulating  his  own  style,  and  he  answered, 
"  I  have  but  two.  One  is,  have  something  to  say ;  and 
the  other,  say  it."  A  truth  was  contained  in  the  apho- 
rism, but  by  no  means  all  the  truth,  or  the  best  of  it. 
It  would  be  as  apt  a  repl}^  if  an  architect,  when  asked 
on  what  rules  of  architecture  he  constructed  a  cathedral, 

Ul 


112  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  vm. 

had  said,  "  I  have  had  but  two :  one  was  to  get  the  job 
and  the  other,  to  execute  it." 

Robert  Southey  says,  with  scarcely  more  discernment 
of  the  merits  of  the  question,  "  I  have  but  three  rules  of 
composition,  —  to  write  as  clearly  as  I  can,  to  write  as 
concisely  as  I  can,  and  to  write  as  impressively  as  I 
can."  "  As  clearly  as  I  can  "  —  was  the  study  of  pre- 
cision useless  to  that  ?  "  As  concisely  as  I  can  "  —  had 
precision  no  concern  with  that  ?  "  As  impressively  as  I 
can  "  —  could  precision  give  no  aid  to  that  ?  Southey's 
neglect  of  critical  study  of  language  had  its  natural 
effect  on  his  own  style.  He  is  distinguished  as  a  volu- 
minous rather  than  a  powerful  author.  He  would  have 
doubled  the  duration  of  his  influence  on  English  litera- 
ture if  he  had  published  less,  and  elaborated  more. 
Ralph  Waldo  Emerson  dismisses  his  name  with  a  sneer, 
—  "Who  is  Southey?" 

1.  In  opposition  to  such  unscholarly  neglect  of  the 
study  of  those  elements  in  style  which  precision  repre- 
sents, let  it  be  remarked,  first,  that  this  study  does  not 
necessitate  in  the  result  the  acquisition  of  any  thing 
pedantic  or  unpractical.  You  do  not  become  a  mere 
word-hunter  by  hunting  words.  The  fact  remains  un- 
answered, that  the  most  powerful  masters  of  English 
speech  are  those  who  have  studied  the  resources  of  the 
language  most  critically.  The  ablest  thinkers  are  they 
who  can  put  thought  into  its  most  exact  expression. 
Those  who  are  most  successful  in  making  style  the 
servitor  of  thought  are  they  who  have  most  thoroughly 
weighed  words.  Such  authors  and  speakers  command 
the  words  they  need,  and  use  no  more  and  no  other. 
They  are  free  from  the  entire  class  of  literary  de- 
fects which  arise  from  the  tyranny  of  expression  ovei 
thought. 


LEcrr.  vm.]  VALUE  OF   PRECISION.  113 

2.  Precision  and  the  study  of  it  are  essential  to  certain 
other  qualities  of  a  good  style ;  for  instance,  they  assist 
clearness  of  style.  A  preacher,  especially,  who  must 
deal  with  difficult  themes,  and  in  oral  address,  and  to 
the  popular  mind,  will  often  find,  that  if  he  would  be 
understood,  if  he  would  not  be  misunderstood,  he  must 
say  exactly  what  he  means.  He  must  put  into  lan- 
guage intelligible  to  the  common  mind  his  ultimate 
thoughts  on  the  subject  in  hand.  Not  a  word  too  many, 
not  a  word  too  few,  not  an  ill-chosen  word,  not  a  mis- 
placed word,  not  a  word  untruthful  in  its  connections, 
hot  a  figurative  word  which  can  be  mistaken  in  a  lit- 
eral sense,  not  a  word  exaggerating  the  shade  of  his 
thought  —  such  must  his  style  be  if  he  would  express 
himself  at  all,  on  a  certain  theme,  to  a  promiscuous  au- 
dience. It  has  been  said  of  Adam  Smith,  that  no  man 
ueeds  to  read  a  sentence  of  his  a  second  time.  Such 
must  the  general  style  of  the  pulpit  be  if  some  of  its 
fundamental  subjects  are  to  be  discussed  at  all  before 
some  hearers.  Yet  those  are  the  very  subjects  on  which 
the  despotism  of  words  over  thought  is  most  common, 
and  most  difficult  to  avoid. 

Precision  and  the  study  of  it  also  promote  energy  of 
style.  The  most  intense  energy  often  depends  on  pre- 
cision. There  is  an  energy  which  is  created  by  a  volu- 
minous vocabulary,  but  the  supreme  energy  in  speech 
is  from  a  well-chosen  vocabulary.  Force  of  style  is 
specially  intensified  by  the  compression  which  precision 
tends  to  secure.  Take  an  example,  almost  at  random, 
from  John  Foster :  "  The  rude  faculty  which  is  not 
expanded  into  intelligence  may  be  sharpened  into  cun- 
ning." How  otherwise  could  so  forcible  an  expression 
be  given  to  his  thought  in  a  literal  form?  He  adds 
a  figurative  form  of  the  same  idea;  "The  spirit  which 


114  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lkct.  viii 

can  not  grow  into  an  eagle  may  take  the  form  and 
action  of  a  snake." 

This  Last  example  illustrates,  also,  a  fact  often  over- 
looked in  the  criticism  of  the  quality  before  us,  —  that 
it  is  not  at  all  restricted  to  literal  speech.  There  is  a 
precision  of  figure  which  is  the  most  intense  type  of 
energy.  It  is  a  paradox  to  speak  of  figurative  language 
as  precise.  But  it  may  be  so  through  the  intensity  of 
tlie  impression  it  makes.  The  outline  of  a  thing  may  be 
most  exact  to  the  eye  when  it  is  on  fire.  So  a  thought 
difficult  of  conception  to  the  common  mind  may  be 
made  clear  by  being  made  vivid ;  and  that  may  re- 
quire that  it  be  intensified  by  a  metaphor.  Certain 
theological  truths  are  more  exact  to  the  popular  mind 
in  the  biblical  figurative  form  of  them  than  they  can 
be  made  by  philosophic  statement.  All  truths  are  so, 
in  the  expression  of  which  vividness  is  essential  to 
precision. 

How  could  you  define  lightning  to  a  man  who  never 
saw  it  ?  Witness  the  struggles  of  blind  men  to  conceive 
of  colors.  When  one  said,  "The  color  of  scarlet  is  like 
the  sound  of  a  trumpet,"  he  illustrated  the  struggle  of 
the  mind  to  conceive  and  express  an  impossible  thought 
by  the  aid  of  a  simile.  Like  that  is  the  aid  of  figure 
to  the  precision  of  all  difficult  thought.  Hyperbole 
may  assist  precision,  even  when  it  falsifies  fact.  Said 
John  Randolph,  when  seeking  to  provoke  a  duel  with 
Henry  Clay,  "  A  hyperbole  for  meanness  is  an  ellipsis 
for  Clay."  Though  false  to  fact,  it  was  not  so  to  the 
real  meaning  of  the  speaker.  He  meant  all  that  he  said  ; 
and  the  reason  for  his  unconscious  choice  of  figurative 
style  was,  that  in  no  other  way  could  he  approximate 
the  whole  of  his  meaning.  We  miss  the  breadth  of 
significance  in  the  term  "  precision,"  when  we  restrict  it 


LECT.  viii.]  VALUE  OF   PllECISION.  115 

to  the  exactness  of  a  philosophical  definition  and  a 
mathematical  demonstration. 

Again:  precision  promotes  elegance  of  style.  This  it 
does  by  promoting  the  fitness  of  style  to  sentiment. 
Our  sense  of  beauty  depends  largely  on  our  sense,  of 
fitness.  This  we  feel,  not  in  words  only,  but  in  con- 
struction as  well.  What  is  the  defect  in  the  following 
specimen  ?  A  church  which  was  burnt  in  Saco,  Me.,  was 
thus  discoursed  upon  by  a  rural  editor :  "  The  church 
was  erected  during  the  ministry  of  the  Rev.  Elihu 
Whitcomb  ;  and  the  dedication  sermon  was  preached 
Feb.  12,  1806.  It  was  ninety  feet  in  length  and  fifty- 
four  in  breadth."  We  detect  in  this  no  want  of  purity, 
the  words  are  good  English ;  no  want  of  energy,  the 
style  is  as  forcible  as  the  thought  is,  and  no  style  should 
be  more  ;  no  want  of  perspicuity,  for  it  is  clear  that  the 
writer  meant  what  he  did  not  say :  no  reader  can  mis- 
take the  sense.  The  defect  is  a  want  of  precision  of 
construction.  No  writer  would  be  guilty  of  it  who  was 
accustomed  to  study  precision  as  a  tribute  to  elegance. 

Further:  precision  is  the  most  effective  test  of  affected 
style  as  distinct  from  genuine  style.  In  affected  style, 
expression  is  estranged  from  thought.  Apply  the  test 
of  precision,  and  the  mask  drops.  In  a  certain  treatise 
on  political  economy  may  be  found  this  declaration : 
"As  much  food  as  a  man  can  buy  for  as  much  wages  as 
a  iiian  can  get  for  as  much  work  as  a  man  can  do,  ought 
to  satisfy  every  citizen  of  the  state."  A  profound  prin- 
ciple of  political  science  appears  here  to  be  expressed 
in  pithy,  condensed,  forcible  diction.  A  world  of  axio- 
matic wisdom  seems  to  be  packed  into  this  monosyllabic 
sentence.  Probably  the  writer  himself  believed,  cer- 
tainly meant  that  his  readers  should  believe,  that  this 
was  a  marvel  of  laconic  force. 


116  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [lbot.  vm 

iVow  analyze  it  by  the  inquiry,  What,  exactly,  does  it 
mean  ?  Reverse  the  order  of  tlie  thoughts,  for  the  sake 
of  clearing  it  of  its  deceptive  axiomatic  forms,  and  it 
reads  thus :  "  A  good  citizen  will  first  do  as  much  work 
as  he  can  do ;  for  his  work  he  will  ask  as  much  wages  as 
he  can  get;  and  then  he  will  spend  it  all  on  food,  and 
be  content."  He  may  not  possess  a  hat,  or  a  shoe,  or  a 
coat,  or  a  book.  Yet  he  has  done  his  whole  duty  to  the 
state ;  and  the  state,  its  duty  to  him.  Even  with  largest 
allowance  for  latent  and  understood  ideas,  it  amounts 
only  to  this:  that  a  man  should  be  content  with  the 
best  he  can  do  and  the  best  he  can  get.  What  concern 
has  this  with  the  elements  of  political  economy?  It 
reminds  one  of  another  notable  example  of  economic 
wisdom,  in  which  the  author  advanced  as  an  elementary 
principle  of  population  which  Malthus  had  never  dis- 
covered, "that  a  large  town  densely  peopled  must  com- 
monly support  a  greater  number  of  inhabitants  than 
a  small  place  sparsely  settled,  especially  if  it  be  in  the 
rural  districts."  Apply  to  any  form  of  affectation  in 
style  the  query,  "What  precisely  does  the  writer  mean?" 
and  the  glamour  of  affected  excellence  disappears. 

3.  Precision  is  not  only  auxiliary  to  other  qualities 
of  a  good  style,  but  it  has  an  independent  virtue  of  its 
own.  This  is  not  easily  defined,  yet  we  all  feel  it.  We 
respond  approvingly  to  a  precise  style,  not  merely  be- 
cause it  is  a  perspicuous  style,  not  merely  because  it  is 
a  vigorous  style,  not  merely  because  it  is  a  becoming 
style.  We  approve  it  for  its  own  sake.  That  is  a  keen 
mind  which  can  say  what  it  means,  and  all  that  it 
means ;  and  we  respect  a  keen  mind.  That  is  an  hon- 
est mind  which  does  say  all  that  it  means ;  and  we  trust 
an  honest  mind.  That  is  often  a  bold  mind  which  does 
not  fear  to  say  all  that  it  means ;  and  men  are  attracted 


LECT.  vm.]  POPULAR  TASTES.  117 

always  by  the  bold  virtues.  "  He  says  what  he  c  eans  " 
is  often  the  highest  encomium  which  the  popular  verdict 
gives  to  a  public  speaker. 

We  often  think  of  precision  as  one  of  the  peculiarly 
scholarly  virtues.  It  is  that ;  but  the  popular  mind  is 
passionately  fond  of  it  as  well.  A  common  audience 
often  makes  a  blunt  demand  for  it  in  an  extreme. 
They  silently  crowd  upon  a  speaker  the  mandate :  "  Say 
what  3^ou  think ;  out  with  it !  "  Nothing  wearies  them 
more  quickly  than  a  style  which  beats  about  the  bush. 
They  never  read  diplomatic  papers.  One  reason  for 
the  popular  simile,  "  as  dull  as  a  sermon,"  is,  that  ser- 
mons are  so  often  written  in  a  style  indicative  of  self- 
restraint,  —  a  style  which  a  certain  critic  has  described 
as  one  in  which  "words  spend  their  time  in  dodging 
things." 

This  popular  craving  for  a  blunt  precision  is  often 
illustrated  in  the  epithets  by  which  the  popular  taste  ex- 
presses its  notion  of  illustrious  men.  Royal  characters 
have  sometimes  passed  into  history  labeled  with  one 
word,  which  portrays  the  exact  popular  conception  of 
them.  I  say  "  portrays,"  because  the"  word  is  commonly 
one  which  makes  appeal  to  the  eye ;  and  it  lives  long 
after  the  labored  analysis  of  the  historian  is  forgotten. 
Thus  we  read  of  "  Charles  the  Bald,"  and  of  "  Louis  the 
Fat,"  and  of  "  Charles  the  Simple,"  and  of  "  Pepin  the 
Short,"  and  of  "  Louis  the  Pious,"  and  of  "  Charles 
the  Stammerer."  In  these  single  and  often  insipid 
titles  the  individuality  of  th'^'se  men  has  been  more 
exactly  indicated  than  by  the  historians  of  courts. 
Adulatory  description  and  magniloquent  phrase  have 
been  brushed  aside  by  the  popular  verdict.  The  popu- 
lar voice  has  said  what  it  meant,  and  has  meant  what 
was  true.     It  is  as  if  the  subjects  of  the  kingdoms  had 


118  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lkct.  vm 

said  to  the  historian,  "  Away  with  make-beliefs  I  Put 
down  just  this  of  these  men,  —  it  is  what  we  know  of 
them,  and  all  that  we  know,  —  'He  was  bald,'  'he  was 
fat,'  '  he  was  simple,'  '  he  stammered,'  '  he  was  short : ' 
so  let  it  stand ! "  And  so  it  is  that  these  men  have 
come  down  to  posterity. 

I  have  said  that  the  popular  craving  for  exact  utter- 
ance of  truth  is  often  excessive.  Men  crave  a  coarse 
precision,  a  savage  form  of  truth.  Yet  it  is  the  truth, 
after  all.  The  common  mind  will  not  long  retain  a  label 
of  a  distinguished  contemporary  if  it  is  not  true.  Popu- 
lar slang,  in  such  cases,  though  etymologically  loose,  is 
commonly  definite  to  the  popular  ear,  and  substantially 
exact.  No  language  is  more  so.  Thus,  when  a  prince 
has  proved  himself  bold,  quick,  decisive,  ponderous  in 
character,  the  popular  voice  has  summed  up  its  verdict 
in  one  figurative  but  exact  title,  "Charles  the  Ham- 
mer." "When  a  military  chief  has  proved  himself  san- 
guinary, cruel,  ferocious,  relentless,  the  people  have  told 
the  whole  story  of  his  life  in  the  single  phrase,  "  Alva 
the  Butcher." 

The  watchwords  of  political  parties  again  illustrate 
the  same  thing.  These  are  often  intensely  figurative ; 
yet,  if  they  have  great  force  with  the  people,  they  are 
as  intensely  true.  No  style  can  express  the  truth  with 
more  of  that  vividness  which  is  often  necessary  to  pre- 
cise ideas  in  the  popular  mind.  Gen.  Harrison  owed 
his  elevation  to  the  presidency  of  our  republic,  in  large 
measure,  to  his  supposed  sympathy  with  the  simple  and 
rude  usages  of  backwoodsmen  ;  and  this  was  expressed 
in  the  old  war-cry  of  the  Whigs  of  1840 :  "  Log  Cabin 
and  Hard  Cider."  Gen.  Taylor  owed  his  election  to 
the  same  office  largely  to  the  sobriquet  which  his  sol 
diers  gave  him  in  the  Mexican  war,  "  Old  Rough  and 


LECT.  VIII.]  PRECISION   IN   CONTROVERSY.  119 

Ready."  Gen.  Scott  was  believed  to  have  lost  his  elec- 
tion because  of  the  nickname  by  which  his  enemies 
ridiculed  his  well-known  fondness  for  military  etiquette, 
"  Old  Fuss  and  Feathers."  Thousands  of  voters  who 
cared  nothing,  and  knew  nothing,  about  the  policies  of 
the  contending  parties,  knew  as  definitely  as  you  do 
what  those  watchwords  meant ;  and  they  voted  for  and 
against  the  things  which  those  words  painted  to  their 
mental  vision.  A  style  in  which  men  said  what  they 
meant,  and  meant  what  they  believed,  carried  the  day, 
although  it  was  made  up  of  popular  slang. 

4.  It  should  be  further  remarked,  that  precision  of 
language  is  specially  needed  in  many  varieties  of  reli- 
gious discourse.  No  other  department  of  thought  has 
suffered  so  much  from  indefinite  language  as  that  of 
religious  controversy.  We  have  before  observed  cer- 
tain single  words  which  in  theological  discussion  have 
been  the  victims  of  loose  usage.  Let  us  observe  now 
one  or  two  examples  of  theological  definition  in  which 
the  same  defect  appears.  One  would  suppose,  that,  in 
the  very  act  of  defining  a  thing,  definite  and  self-con- 
sistent diction  would  be  employed.  "If  a  writer  can  not 
express  his  meaning  in  exact  definition,  it  is  fair  to 
presume  that  he  can  never  be  depended  on  for  exact 
discjssion. 

Yet  a  writer  in  the  "  Princeton  Repertory  "  advances 
the  following  definition  of  the  character  of  an  act : 
"  The  character  of  an  act  consists  in  the  disposition 
and  the  purpose  and  the  motives  with  which  it  is  per- 
formed." On  any  theory  of  the  nature  of  virtue,  what 
has  the  word  "  motives "  to  do  with  the  definition  of 
character?  What  is  a  motive?  Surely  it  is  either 
something  within,  or  something  without,  the  man  him- 
self.   If  something  within,  it  is  synonymous  with  either 


120  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [lbct.  vra 

disposition,  or  purpose,  or  both,  and  it  confuses  a  defini 
tion  to  add  it  to  either.  If  something  without,  it  is  no 
part  of  his  character  in  the  act.  Is  the  purse  of  gold 
a  part  of  the  character  of  the  thief  who  steals  it? 
Another  critic,  in  the  "Biblical  Repository,"  writes 
thus,  in  the  attempt  to  define  inability :  "  Natural  inabil- 
ity is  that  which  an  agent,  though  ever  so  willing,  can 
not  do  from  lack  of  capacity."  Inability,  then,  is  not 
an  attribute  of  the  man :  it  is  the  thing  which  he  can 
not  do.     This  is  nonsense. 

A  certain  theological  author  starts  with  a  proof-text, 
and  builds  upon  it  a  theory  of  depravity.  "  There  is 
no  condemnation  to  them  who  are  in  Christ  Jesus." 
On  this  text  he  lays  down  the  following  theses :  (1)  If 
there  is  no  condemnation  to  them,  they  are  not  guilty, 
that  is,  not  exposed  to  the  divine  wrath ;  (2)  If  they 
are  not  guilty,  then  they  are  innocent ;  (3)  If  they  are 
innocent,  then  they  are  holy;  (4)  If  they  are  holy, 
then  they  are  perfect ;  that  is,  perfect  not  in  nature,  but 
in  their  persons.  "  I  can  not  see,"  he  modestly  adds, 
"  how  it  can  be  otherwise." 

Surely  enough :  it  is  a  hopeless  case.  Who  can  see 
it  to  be  otherwise,  or  anywise,  with  such  a  piece  of  pure 
mechanism  as  this,  of  words  void  of  thought?  First, 
the  word  "guilty,"  used  in  the  old  scholastic  sense  of 
"  exposed  to  divine  wrath,"  which  was  never  the  com- 
mon sense,  starts  the  logic  on  a  false  track.  Secondly, 
the  confounding  of  "  innocence  "  with  "  holiness  "  pro- 
longs the  absurdity.  The  two  words  are  not  synonyms : 
one  is  negative,  the  other  positive  virtue.  Gabriel  is 
holy  :  an  oriole  is  innocent.  Thirdly,  what  unheard-of 
fiction  of  theological  fancy  can  he  be  dreaming  of,  when 
he  separates  "person"  from  "nature,"  pronouncing  one 
perfect,  and  the  other  not  ?     When  the  princely  bishop 


LECT.  vni.]         DECLINE  OP  POPULAR  FAITH.  121 

swore  at  his  butler,  what  became  of  the  bishop  when 
Satan  got  the  prince  ?  Some  men  have  owed  their 
partial  loss  of  reputation  for  orthodoxy  to  an  ir  ability 
to  use  a  few  theological  terms  with  precision.  Home 
Tooke,  when  on  trial  for  high  treason,  said  that  he 
"  was  the  miserable  victim  of  two  prepositions  and  a 
conjunction."  Similar  are  the  triangular  tormentors 
which  have  vexed  the  souls  of  some  theologians. 

Is  there  any  thing  within  the  range  of  human  charac- 
ter which  Shakspeare  did  not  illustrate,  either  in  ear- 
nest or  in  caricature  ?  He  has  the  forerunner  of  such 
theologians  as  these  in  the  person  of  Bardolph,  expound- 
ing the  word  "accommodated."  "Accommodation  — 
that  is  —  when  a  man  is  —  as  they  say  —  accommodated : 
or  when  a  man  is  —  being  —  whereby  —  he  may  be 
thought  to  be  —  accommodated — which  is  an  excellent 
thing." 

EXCURSUS. 

In  closing  this  discussion  of  precision  of  style,  let  us 
observe,  by  excursus  from  the  main  topic,  a  certain  ten- 
dency to  decline  in  the  popular  dialect  in  the  expres- 
sion of  religious  ideas.  The  tendency  is  always  present, 
in  the  popular  thinking,  to  confound  those  ideas.  The 
gravitation  is  downward,  from  the  more  to  the  less  ex- 
act. The  unity  of  God  once  established,  as  it  must  have 
been  in  the  infancy  of  nations,  could  never  have  been 
lost  from  the  popular  faith  but  for  this  intellectual  de- 
generacy. The  modern  pulpit  has  the  same  drift  to 
contend  with,  though  in  other  forms.  Terms  once  un- 
derstood do  not  live,  unless  the  pulpit  constantly  puts 
life  into  them  by  being  itself  alive  with  them.  First  a 
careless  use,  then  a  confused  use,  then  contradictory 
uses,  and  finally  false  use  of  language,  mark  the  process, 


122  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  vrn 

often,  from  popular  faith  to  popular  disbelief.  In  rude 
ages  this  was  a  descent  from  monotheism  to  idolatry. 

Have  you  not  observed  this  tendency  to  confusion,  in 
its  middle  stage,  in  the  dialect  which  laymen  often  em- 
ploj^  to  express  religious  experience?  The  indetermi- 
nateness  of  their  dialect  is  significant  of  moral  decline. 
By  instinct  they  shun  a  positive  utterance.  The  pecu- 
liarities of  Christian  experience,  as  distinct  from  natural 
religiosity,  are  dropped  from  their  speech.  They  talk 
of  goodness,  not  of  piety ;  of  virtue,  not  of  holiness  ;  of 
belief,  not  of  faith ;  of  improvement,  not  of  conversion  ; 
of  weakness,  not  of  guilt ;  of  faults,  errors,  irregularities, 
not  of  sin,  crime,  vice.  They  trust  in  heaven,  not  in 
God ;  or  in  Divine  mercy,  not  in  the  blood  of  Christ. 
They  hope  for  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  not  for  union 
of  the  soul  with  Christ.  The  good  man,  not  the  re- 
deemed and  believing  sinner,  is  a  symbol  in  their  thought 
of  an  upright  character  here  on  earth ;  and  the  hope  of 
immortality  is  the  utmost  stretch  of  their  aspiration  for 
eternity.  One  can  not  find  evidence  in  their  religious 
dialect,  that  they  have  ever  heard  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment. 

The  dying  words  of  statesmen  and  literary  men  often 
betray  this  loss  of  every  thing  that  is  peculiar  to  Chris- 
tianit7  as  distinct  from  the  Socratic  philosophy.  If 
they  allude  to  Christianity  in  their  dying  testimony  to 
their  faith,  they  often  seem,  by  their  language,  to  mean 
by  it  a  pover  of  civilization,  not  a  plan  of  individual 
redemption  and  salvation.  Look  for  examples  to  the 
dying  declarations  of  Daniel  Webster  and  Henry  Clay. 
From  the  death-scene  of  one  of  our  American  senators 
one  can  not  infer  that  he  knew  even  of  the  being  of  a 
God. 

This  degeneracy  of  religious  dialect  is  very  apt  to 


LECT,  viii.]  NOMII^AL   CHRISTIANITY.  123 

take  place  in  a  certain  circle  of  minds  which  seem  to 
roam  around  the  spiritual  life  of  the  Christian  Church, 
without  being  participants  of  its  privileges,  or  believers 
in  its  reality.  They  are  not  spiritually  converted  to 
Christ,  yet  are  unable  to  rid  themselves  of  the  Christian 
civilization.  By  a  centripetal  force,  Christianity  holds 
under  restraint  from  downright  philosophic  heathenism 
multitudes  who  never  give  evidence  of  an  experience  of 
its  saving  power.  Their  religious  dialect  corresponds 
to  the  fact.  Such  minds  are  held  in  check,  but  are  not 
swayed;  they  are  illumined,  but  not  warmed,  by  the 
vital  truths  of  the  religion  they  profess  to  believe. 
Among  this  large  class  of  mental  satellites  of  Christi- 
anity you  find  the  dialect  which  expresses  the  peculi- 
arities of  the  life  with  God  in  Christ  to  be  an  unknown 
tongue.  Members  of  the  House  of  Lords  used  to  go  to 
hear  the  preaching  of  William  Jay,  and  return,  saying 
that  they  could  not  understand  him.  He  spoke  of  things 
of  which  they  found  not  the  remotest  conception  in  their 
own  mental  history.  Between  him  and  them  a  great 
gulf  lay.  And  this  because  he  preached  to  spiritual 
Christians  of  the  peculiarities  of  the  Christian  life. 

To  arrest  this  degeneracy  of  nominally  Christian 
minds,  and  put  them  upon  an  ascending  track  of  Chris- 
tian thought,  a  preacher  needs  to  be  master  of  a  precise 
religious  style.  The  temptation,  when  seconded  by  the 
amenities  and  the  culture  of  the  social  life  which  Chris- 
tianity creates,  is  almost  overwhelming  to  yield  to  the 
moral  decadence  of  the  secular  mind,  and  permit  Chris- 
tianity to  decline  to  the  level  of  philosophic  morality. 
Preachers  who  do  not  consciously  intend  this  may  be 
drawn  into  it  insensibly.  They  gradually  become  reluc- 
tant to  employ  the  distinctive  language  of  Christian  ex- 
perience, because  it  is  the  language  of  so  much  illiterate 


124  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lbct.  vul 

experience.  They  unconsciously  incline  to  the  more 
philosophic  methods  of  expressing  the  same  ideas,  but 
ideas,  which,  in  the  philosophic  dialect,  are  not  the  same 
to  any  mind  but  theirs. 

This  was  the  fatal  defect  in  the  preaching  of  that  class 
in  the  English  pulpit  represented  by  Dr.  Blair.  Men 
who  are  not  deficient  themselves  in  evancrelical  faith 
may  fall  into  the  same  error.  It  is  one  of  the  perila 
incident  to  the  intellectual  refinement  and  the  social 
culture  which  Christianity  creates.  The  pulpit  should 
be  made  a  power  of  control  over  that  culture,  not  a 
servitor  to  it.  This  it  may  be  made  by  cultivating  in 
its  ministrations  the  dialect  which  is  most  precise  in  the 
expression  of  the  facts  of  the  Christian  life  as  realized 
in  the  experience  of  the  common  mind.  Dr.  Chalmers 
saw  reason,  in  the  drift  of  the  Scottish  pulpit  of  his  day, 
to  warn  the  clergy  that  "  Christianity  is  not  a  system  of 
respectability  only."  The  diction  of  the  pulpit  often 
gives  a  hint  of  social  distinctions  with  which  it  ought 
to  have  nothing  to  do.  If  it  must  be  tested  by  any  thing 
in  social  caste,  the  test  must  be  the  fidelity  of  its  expres- 
sion of  the  common  mind.  To  the  common  mind  trained 
under  faithful  preaching,  holiness  means  more  than  vir- 
tue ;  sin  means  more  than  fault ;  God  means  more  than 
heaven  —  more  even  than  Deity ;  salvation  means  more 
than  reformation ;  the  atonement  means  more  than 
divine  favor;  a  Saviour  means  more  than  a  heavenly 
Father ;  and  the  life  eternal  means  more  than  the  soul's 
immortality.  That  is  a  false  taste  which  would  substi- 
tute the  general  for  the  precise  phraseology ;  and  that  is 
an  effeminate  decadence  in  which  the  pulpit  slides  down 
that  plane  unconsciously.  From  the  "  con  mon  "  to  the 
"  respectable,"  in  the  dialect  of  the  pulpit,  is  a  long  and 
chilling  distance. 


iJKTt.  nn.]  BIBLIOAL  EMBLEMS.  126 

The  principle  involved  in  this  view  applies  as  well  to 
the  retention,  in  preaching,  of  certain  biblical  emblems 
of  truth.  The  degeneracy  of  which  I  speak  encourages 
the  obsolescence  of  many  of  these,  specially  of  those 
which  express  the  comminatory  aspects  of  truth.  On 
these  subjects  the  pictorial  style  of  the  Bible  is  more 
exact  in  the  conception  it  gives  to  the  popular  mind 
than  the  philosophic  dialect  of  the  schools.  This  is  one 
illustration  of  the  principle  to  which  reference  has  been 
made  before,  that  a  truth  illuminated  by  metaphor  may 
be  more  exactly  true  than  the  same  truth  expressed  in 
any  language  which  literal  speech  can  invent.  Figura-. 
tive  utterance  of  such  truths  is  often  the  ultimate  ex- 
pression of  all  forms  of  them  possible  to  the  human 
mind.  We  get  a  more  exact  notion  of  the  lightning  by 
seeing  its  lurid  coruscations  in  the  midnight  sky  than 
we  can  from  any  description  of  it  possible  to  language. 
So,  from  the  biblical  emblem  "hell  fire,"  we  obtain  a 
more  truthful  idea  of  the  future  woe  than  we  can  from 
any  or  all  of  the  literal  synonyms  of  the  word  "  retribu- 
tion." Is,  then,  the  "lake  of  fire  "  a  literal  fact?  No ; 
but  to  a  human  mind  clothed  by  a  human  body  it  is  the 
more  precise  expression  of  the  reality,  simply  because 
there  is  more  of  it.  We  get  but  an  approximation  to 
the  reality  in  any  form  of  language ;  but  the  figurative 
form  is  the  ultimate  form,  beyond  which  expression  is 
impossible. 


LECTURE  IX. 

PEKSPLCUITY  OF  STYLE;   ITS  FOUNDATION  IN  CLEAB- 

NESS  OP  THOUGHT. 

For  the  object  of  the  present  discussions,  perspicuity 
of  style  needs  to  be  considered  in  reference  to  four 
things,  —  thoughts,  imagery,  words,  construction. 

I.  Perspicuity  must,  like  every  other  quality  of  a  good 
style,  find  its  foundation  in  the  thought  to  be  expressed. 
An  important  class  of  the  causes  of  obscurity,  therefore, 
concerns  the  thoughts  of  a  discourse. 

1.  Obscurity  may  arise  from  the  absence  of  thought. 
Dr.  Campbell  writes :  "  It  hath  been  said,  that  in  madmen 
there  is  as  great  a  variety  of  character  as  in  those  who 
enjoy  the  use  of  reason ;  and  in  like  manner  it  may  be 
said  of  nonsense,  that,  in  writing  it,  there  is  as  great  scope 
for  variety  of  style  as  there  is  in  writing  sense."  Men 
may  write  nonsense  unconsciously.  What  conception 
of  truth  have  preachers  had  in  discoursing  of  "  the  eter- 
nal Now  "  ?  Certain  it  is,  that  if  the  pulpit  has  meant 
by  this  phrase  any  thing  more  or  other  than  the  omnis- 
cience of  the  Divine  Mind,  they  have  experimented  with 
an  inconceivable  idea.  Language  is  at  a  deadlock  at 
the  outset.  If  the  phrase  means  the  absence,  from  the 
consciousness  of  the  Divine  Mind,  of  all  knowledge  of 
succession  in  time,  it  is  nonsense,  in  the  sense  of  being 
an  impossible  notion  of  the  Deity. 

A  preacher  is  mentioned  also  by  Dr.  Campbell,  who 
once  remarked  it,  as  evidence  of  the  goodness  of  God, 

126 


LKCT.  ix.J  UNCONSCIOUS   NONSENSE.  127 

tliat  to  our  minds  the  moments  of  time  come  iii  succes- 
sion, and  not  simultaneously ;  "  for,"  said  he  sagely,"  if 
they  had  been  so  ordered  as  to  come  simultaneously, 
the  result  would  have  been  infinite  confusion."  Criti- 
cism can  characterize  such  a  remark  no  otherwise  than 
by  its  echo,  —  "infinite  confusion."  What  can  surpass 
it  in  vacuity  of  thought  ?  Who  can  parallel  it  with  an 
imitation  or  a  caricature  ?  It  reminds  one  of  Southey's 
criticism  on  a  literary  production  which  he  deemed  a 
monument  of  folly.  He  said  that  "  such  pure,  involun- 
tary, unconscious  nonsense  is  inimitable  by  any  effort 
of  sense." 

This  is  sometimes,  I  will  not  say  often,  the  real  and 
only  cause  of  obscure  passages  in  sermons  otherwise 
intelligible,  —  that  the  preacher  talks  on  when  he  has 
nothing  to  say.  He  plays  on  the  keys  of  the  organ,  with 
no  wind  in  the  pipes.  His  mind  is  vacant  of  thought ; 
and  to  fill  up  time,  or  to  round  out  the  rhythm  of  a  sen- 
tence, he  speaks  words  —  words  —  words  !  For  the 
moment  he  belongs  to  the  class  of  authors  of  whom 
Whately  says,  "They  aim  at  nothing,  and  hit  it." 
Patches  of  such  vacuity  may  be-  found  in  sermons  which 
as  a  whole  are  thoughtful. 

Preachers  are  not  wholly  without  excuse  for  this 
defect.  Their  labor  in  mental  production  is  almost 
immeasurable  and  incessant.  No  other  profession  in 
this  respect  lays  so  heavy  a  tax  on  the  mind's  creative 
faculty.  An  eminent  member  of  the  Boston  bar  once 
said,  in  comparing  his  own  profession  with  that  of  the 
pulpit,  that  he  did  not  know  a  man  among  his  profes- 
sional brethren  who  ever  did  or  could,  for  one  year  con- 
secutively, create  the  equivalent  of  two  sermons  a  week 
such  as  he  listened  to  every  Sunday.  No  mind  is  so 
rich  in  its  resources,  and  so  perfectly  under  the  disci- 


128  ENGLISH  STYLB.  [lect.  ix 

pline  of  its  own  will-power,  that  it  can  do  such  work 
without  som^^times  and  transiently  writing  mechanically, 
and  therefore  writing  nonsense.  The  mind  at  such 
times  works  as  in  dreams.  The  links  and  rivets  of 
logical  thinking  are  broken,  and  the  style  of  expression 
degenerates  into  mumbling. 

2.  A  much  more  frequent  cause  of  obscure  expression 
in  sermons  is  v^agueness  of  thought.  Vague  thinking 
necessitates  indefinite  utterance.  Utterance  can  be  no 
wiser  than  the  thought  is.  A  man  can  not  say  what 
is  not  in  him  to  say.  The  style  of  vague  thinking  can 
not  be  specific.  It  has  no  point.  The  thinking  is  not 
forceful  enough  to  compel  clear  expression.  Sydney 
Smith  has  written  a  capital  criticism  on  Dr.  Samuel 
Parr :  "  He  never  seems  hurried  by  his  subject  into  ob- 
vious language."  This  hits  the  mark  of  defect  in  many 
sermons.  A  preacher's  subject,  if  he  has  one,  and  has 
so  mastered  it  as  to  have  clear  thoughts  upon  it,  will 
force  him  into  an  obvious  style.  He  can  not  help  it  if 
the  subject  be  one  which  falls  within  the  range  of  the 
hearer's  comprehension.  He  must  speak  the  plain  truth, 
as  we  call  it,  like  a  plain  man  talking  to  plain  men. 

It  used  to  be  said  of  Napoleon,  that  he  did  not  under- 
stand diplomacy,  and  that  he  never  practiced  the  diplo- 
matic style.  The  statesmen  of  Europe  were  perplexed, 
because  they  could  always  understand  him ;  that,  is, 
his  style  was  that  obvious  style  which  can  not  be  mis- 
understood, if  the  author  has  written  wnat  he  meant. 
When  he  left  Paris  for  Waterloo,  he  declared  his  pur- 
pose to  deliver  a  pitched  battle  at  or  near  that  locality,  in 
language  so  plain,  that  his  opponents  could  not  believe 
that  he  was  not  deceiving  them.  They  well-nigh  lost 
the  battle  by  not  taking  him  at  his  word.  A  certain 
critic  of  Napoleon's  style  attributes  this  clearness  of  it. 


LBCT.  nc.]  VAGUE  THINKING.  129 

SO  uncommon  in  the  dispatches  of  statesmen,  to  the 
uniform  intensity  of  his  thinking.  His  mental  working 
in  all  things  was  so  intense,  that  his  style  was  illumi- 
nated. He  could  not  help  saying  what  he  meant,  though 
Europe  was  in  a  maze  because  they  could  always  under- 
stand him.  This  is  the  kind  of  mental  working  which 
the  pulpit  needs,  —  intense  working,  which  sets  style  on 
fire  by  the  friction  of  thought  and  language.  Several 
memoranda  deserve  to  be  noted  on  this  topic. 

One  is,  that  vague  thinking  may  be  mistaken  for  pro- 
found thinking.  This  is  not  infrequent  in  the  pulpit 
Difficult  themes  belong  to  the  pulpit.  Vague  thinking 
on  such  themes  clothes  itself  in  general  terms.  These 
general  terms  re-act  on  the  preacher's  mind,  leading  him 
to  believe  that  the  generalness  is  the  necessary  sign  of 
profoundness.  The  obscurity  which  springs  from  his 
own  poverty  of  thought  he  attributes  to  the  inevita- 
ble poverty  of  language  in  dealing  with  such  thought. 
"Words,  words,  nothing  but  words,"  is  the  criticism 
of  Carlyle  on  some  of  the  nebulous  poetry  of  Robert 
Browning.  Similar  is  the  criticism  which  the  robust 
sense  of  the  common  people  is  sometimes  tempted  to 
pass  upon  philosophical  passages  in  sermons.  It  is  not 
fair  to  an  attentive  and  sensible  hearer  to  pass  off 
upon  him  thoughts  half  formed,  under  the  name  of  deep 
thinking. 

What  do  the  common  people  mean  when  they  describe 
a  preacher  as  "  a  great  generalizer "  ?  Usually  they 
mean,  that  he  is  obscure,  through  the  want  of  finished 
thinking.  Fontenelle's  rule  in  composition  was  this :  "  I 
always  try  first  to  understand  myself."  No  man  will 
write  obscurely  who  thoroughly  understands  himself. 
No  speaker  will  speak  obscurely  in  oral  address  who 
will  first  faithfully  practice  his  speech  on  himself  as  an 


130  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [lkct.  ix 

imaginary  hearer.  "  Should  I  understand  this  sermon 
if  it  came  first  upon  me  with  no  preparatory  thinking, 
and  in  oral  form,  in  the  style  which  I  have  given  to  it  ?  " 
Apply  this  test,  and  the  probabilities  are  that  it  will 
never  delude  you  into  preaching  of  the  nebulous  order. 

Again :  vagueness  of  thought  is  a  fruitful  source  of 
self-contradictory  style.  Often  our  chief  difficulty  in 
understanding  a  writer  is,  that  we  can  not  attach  any 
idea  to  his  language  without  making  him  contradict 
himself:  therefore  we  infer  that  we  do  not  understand 
his  meaning.  Yet,  in  the  majority  of  cases,  we  probably 
do  understand  him  as  well  as  he  understood  himself. 
Men  of  willful  opinions  are  often  led  into  an  obscure 
style  by  self-contradiction.  Their  conclusions  are  fore- 
gone conclusions.  With  evidence,  or  without  it,  they 
are  bound  to  reach  certain  results.  They  are  impatient 
of  the  cautious,  logical  process  which  would  disclose 
their  inconsistency.  Hence  they  launch  into  a  style, 
which,  to  self-possessed  minds,  appears  to  be  self-contra- 
dictory, so  far  as  it  expresses  any  thing. 

The  Duke  of  Wellington  once  said  that  the  true  way 
to  advance  contradictory  propositions  was  to  affirm  both 
vehemently,  not  attempting  to  prove  either.  Less  posi- 
tive minds  than  his  choose  to  disown  the  contradiction, 
and  therefore  they  cover  it  in  a  November  fog.  This 
may  be  done  with  no  distinct  consciousness  of  the  decep- 
tion. The  speaker  is  self-deceived.  I  can  not  but  think 
that  the  popular  notion,  that  human  responsibility  and 
predestination  are  irreconcilable  opposites  is  due  in 
great  measure  to  the  want  of  masterly  thinking,  and  the 
existence,  consequently,  of  obscure  teaching,  on  those 
subjects  in  the  pulpit.  A  preacher  should  never  be  con- 
tent to  leave  the  impression  on  his  hearers  that  those 
truths  are  irreconcilable  to  the  human  mind.     They  are 


tEOT.  IX.]  ATPECTED  PROFOUNDNESS.  131 

not  so.  We  had  better  not  preach  on  them  at  all 
than  to  plunge  them  into  that  quagniire,  and  leave  them 
there. 

Further:  the  remedy  for  obscurity  of  style  arising 
from  vagueness  of  thought,  obviously  is  either  a  more 
thorough  discipline  or  a  more  thorough  furnishing  of 
the  mind.  In  such  an  exigency  one  must  have  a  more 
vigorous  thinking  power,  or  certain  materials  of  thought 
which  are  absent.  Sometimes  both  are  needed.  The 
vital  point  to  be  observed  is,  that  no  mere  study  of  dic- 
tion as  such  can  remedy  such  an  evil  as  this.  Study  of 
one's  style  may  disclose  the  evil,  but  can  not  remedy  it. 
The  remedy  lies  back  of  rhetorical  criticism.  More 
power  or  more  knowledge,  or  both,  must  fit  a  man  to 
discuss  subjects  on  which  his  style  exhibits  such  incom- 
petence. 

3.  Obscurity  of  style  related  to  the  thoughts  of  dis- 
course may  spring  also  from  the  affectation  of  profound 
thought.  It  is  one  of  the  subtle  laws  of  nature,  that 
nothing  which  is  affected  is  so  clear  as  that  which  is 
genuine.  In  judging  men,  we  call  a  genuine  character 
a  transparent  character.  So,  in  style,  nature  is  more 
intelligible  than  art. 

Let  it  be  observed,  that  clear  thinking  may  be  made 
obscure  in  the  expression  by  the  attempt  to  clothe  it 
in  the  philosophical  forms  of  profound  thinking.  The 
real  thought,  the  kernel  when  the  husk  is  off,  may  be 
so  simple  that  it  is  the  last  thing  a  hearer  would  suspect 
of  being  so  magnificently'  hidden.  Let  this  be  illus- 
trated by  an  extract  from  the  essays  of  the  late  George 
Brimley,  librarian  of  Trinity  College  at  Cambridge.  He 
is  discoursing  upon  the  nature  of  poetry,  and  he  solilo- 
quizes thus :  "  A  poetical  view  of  the  universe  is  an 
exhaustive  presentation  of  all  phenomena,  as  individual 


182  ENGLISH  8TTLB.  [lkot.  n 

phenomenal  wholes,  of  ascending  orders  of  complexity, 
whose  earliest  stage  is  the  organization  of  single  co- 
existing phenomena  into  concrete  individuals,  and  its 
apotheosis  the  marvelous  picture  of  the  infinite  life,  no 
longer  conceived  as  the  oceanic  pulsation  which  the 
understanding  called  cause  and  effect."  Indeed  I  Yet 
the  writer  was  no  fool.  His  essays  show  that  he  had 
some  thoughts.  Probably  one  is  struggling,  like  MU- 
ton's  half-created  lion,  to  see  the  light  in  this  fathomless 
and  boundless  revery.  I  venture  the  guess  that  the 
kernel  of  it  was  a  very  simple  thought,  which  Dugald 
Stewart  would  have  expressed  in  three  lines  which  an 
educated  man  need  not  have  read  a  second  time.  Read 
this  of  George  Brimley's  the  twenty-second  time,  and 
are  you  the  wiser? 

In  some  instances,  by  the  legerdemain  of  style,  a 
truism  may  be  made  unintelligible.  A  writer  in  the 
"  Westminster  Review  "  discourses  in  this  fashion :  An- 
other curious  observation  upon  philosophic  activity  is, 
that  the  co-ordination  of  all  the  functions  which  consti- 
tute the  whole  intellectual  energy  of  philosophic  minds 
is  preserved  in  its  plenitude  for  only  a  short  period  of 
their  whole  duration  of  life.  There  occurs,  and  gener- 
ally at  an  early  point  in  middle  life,  an  epoch  when  the 
assimilation  of  scientific  material  and  its  ulterior  elabo- 
ration proceed  with  an  energy  more  vigorous  and  more 
continuous  than  is  ever  afterwards  attained  by  the  same 
mind.  This  phase  of  philosophical  super-activity  is 
always  succeeded  by  an  intellectual  phase  characterized 
by  less  expenditure  of  simultaneous  powers."  I  do  not 
say  that  this  has  no  meaning.  But  what  is  its  meaning? 
If  I  do  not  miss  it  in  the  volume  of  its  long-tailed  vo- 
cabulary, it  is  this,  and  this  is  the  whole  of  it,  —  that  the 
mind  of  a  metaphysician  is  more  vigorous  for  a  time 


utOT.  IX.]  PHILOSOPHIC  A  L  STYLE.  183 

near  middle  life  than  it  ever  is  afterwards.  Why  could 
not  the  reviewer  say  that,  if  he  must  say  a  thing  so 
obvious,  and  be  content  ? 

Again :  the  fact  deserves  notice,  that,  in  the  study  of 
modern  philosophy,  a  professional  man  needs  to  be  on 
his  guard  lest  his  style  of  public  speech  should  become 
infected  with  the  disease  of  artificial  depth.  I  find  in 
much  of  the  philosophical  style  of  our  age,  as  it  seems  to 
me,  a  needless  multiplication  of  novel  words,  odd  words, 
imported  words,  archaic  words,  general  words  for  spe- 
cific thoughts,  and  a  haziness  of  general  effect,  which 
wearies  a  reader  as  a  blurred  picture  wearies  the  eye. 
When  the  writers  are  charged  with  obscurity  of  diction, 
and  they  excuse  it  on  the  ground  of  its  necessity  to  that 
which  they  call  "  the  higher  thinking,"  I  confess  that  I 
am  incredulous.  That  necessity  appears  to  me  to  be 
pushed  to  the  extreme.  Many  thoughts  which  I  find 
wrapped  up  in  this  style  of  "the  higher  thinking"  do  not 
look,  when  one  comes  at  them,  to  be  so  inexpressibly 
lofty.  They  lie  on  a  plane  a  long  way  this  side  of  the 
third  heaven.  Often  they  are  very  simple  thoughts,  not 
/lovelties  in  philosophy,  but  susceptible  of  expression  in 
rery  homely  English. 

That  a  profound  mind  doing  honest  work  can  not 
make  profound  thought  clear,  implies  intellectual  dis- 
ease or  imbecility  in  the  rest  of  mankind  to  an  extent 
which  is  never  true,  except  in  effete  or  decadent  races. 
It  is  more  probable  that  some  of  our  philosophical  writ- 
ers strain  after  the  look  of  profoundness  when  the 
reality  is  not  in  them.  That  was  a  perilous  principle 
which  Coleridge  advanced  respecting  the  capacity  of 
human  language,  that  it  can  not  express  certain  meta- 
physical ideas,  and  therefore  that  clearness  of  style  in  a 
metaphysical  treatise  is^  prima  faeie^  evidence  of  super- 


134  BNGLISH  STYLE.  fLKCr.  t» 

ficialness.  As  Coleridge  was  accustomed  to  illustrate 
it.  the  pool  in  which  you  can  count  the  pebbles  at  the 
bottom  is  shallow  water :  the  fathomless  depth  is  that 
in  which  you  can  see  only  the  reflection  of  your  own 
face.  This  would  be  true  if  thinking  were  water.  But 
the  principle  opens  the  way  to  the  most  stupendous  im- 
positions upon  speculative  science.  It  tempts  authors 
to  the  grossest  affectations  in  style.  In  the  study  of 
modern  psychology,  therefore,  a  preacher  needs  to  be  on 
his  guard.  We  may  safely  treat  as  a  fiction  in  philoso- 
phy any  thing  which  claims  to  be  a  discovery,  yet  can 
not  make  itself  understood  without  huge  and  unman- 
ageable contortions  of  the  English  tongue. 

Further:  it  should  be  noted,  that,  when  this  disease  of 
affected  profoundness  finds  its  way  into  the  pulpit,  it  is 
probably,  of  all  faults  in  homiletic  discourse,  the  most 
offensive  if  it  be  detected.  Sometimes,  though  rarely, 
a  perverted  taste  exists,  which  fails  to  detect  the  impo- 
sition on  good  sense.  Then  hearers  are  fascinated  by  a 
dialect  which  nobody  understands,  but  which  to  dis- 
cerning ones  sounds  hollow.  They  throng  around  the 
puffing  and  swelling  preacher,  as  boys  crowd  around  a 
drum,  and  for  essentially  the  same  reason.  A  Presby- 
terian missionary  in  Syria  writes  that  Mr.  Moody's  ser- 
mons, when  translated  into  Arabic,  do  not  at  all  meet 
the  Arabic  ideal  of  an  oral  discourse,  because  they  are 
so  easily  understood.  The  popular  idea  of  a  sermon 
there,  he  says,  is  that  it  should  be  composed  in  the 
profoundest  possible  dialect.  The  less  hearers  can 
understand  of  it,  the  better.  They  crave  only  the  rever- 
berations of  it  on  the  tympanum  of  the  ear. 

When  Occidental  taste  falls  into  such  juvenility,  all 
we  can  say  of  it  is,  that  it  must  needs  be  that  offenses 
come,  but  woe  unto  him  through  whom  they  come  I 


tKCT    ix.J  ABSTRUSE  THINKING.  135 

Such  an  affectation  can  not  exist  here,  unless  it  be  cre- 
ated and  fostered  by  the  pulpit.  It  is  never  originated 
by  the  good  sense  of  the  people.  When  it  does  exist 
among  them,  it  is  short-lived.  Good  sense  in  the  pulpit 
is  speedy  death  to  it.  While  it  lasts,  we  have  only  to 
ignore  it,  and  preach  like  plain  men  talking  to  plain 
men.  If  the  times  seem  out  of  joint,  and  will  not  bear 
it,  remember  Dr.  Arnold's  reply,  when  cautioned  against 
a  style  of  speech  which  the  times  would  not  bear ;  "  I 
do  not  see  how  the  times  can  help  bearing  any  thing 
that  an  honest  man  has  the  resolution  to  do."  Any 
false  taste  in  a  community  will  give  way  to  courage. 

4.  Thought  may  give  occasion  for  obscurity  of  style 
by  its  real  profoundness.  Subjects  may  be  too  abstruse 
for  oral  discussion.  Speculation  may  be  too  refined  for 
popular  comprehension.  Argument  may  be  too  long- 
protracted  for  the  power  of  attention  in  a  promiscuous 
assembly. 

One  form  of  this  defect  is  that  of  pursuing  simple 
themes  into  complicated  relations.  No  theme  is  so  sim- 
ple that  it  can  not  be  handled  abstrusely.  The  most 
simple  truths  are  elemental  truths.  They  are  princi- 
ples. They  are  foundations  and  pillars  on  which  sys- 
tems of  truth  are  constructed.  Language  can  not  render 
all  the  relations  of  such  truths  clear  to  all  minds  in  oral 
speech.  A  preacher  encounters  in  the  discussion  of  such 
themes  a  peril  which  grows  out  of  his  very  culture :  it 
is  that  of  pursuing  his  theme  into  intricate  sinuosities 
of  treatment  in  which  his  own  mind  may  revel,  but  the 
minds  of  his  hearers  be  "  in  wandering  mazes  lost."  The 
subject  may  be  a  trite  one  :  its  very  triteness  may  be  his 
temptation.  Obscurity  may  be  caused  by  the  desire  to 
avoid  commonplace.  We  find  examples  of  such  themes 
in  the  being  of  God,  the  duty  of  repentance,  the  nature 


136  BNGLISH   8TYLB.  [utOT.  ix 

of  sin,  the  necessity  of  an  atonement  *.  in  short,  in  any 
of  the  standard  and  hackneyed  topics  of  the  pulpit. 
The  most  obscure  sermon  it  has  ever  been  my  lot  to 
hear  was  a  sermon  on  the  truthfulness  of  Christ. 

Robert  Southey  says  of  Edmund  Burke,  "  Few  con- 
verts were  made  by  him,  because,  instead  of  making 
difficult  things  easy,  he  made  things  easy  in  themselves 
difficult  to  be  comprehended,  by  the  manner  in  which 
he  presented  them ;  evolving  their  causes,  and  involv- 
ing their  consequences,  till  the  reader  whose  mind  was 
not  habituated  to  metaphysical  discussion  knew  neither 
in  what  his  argument  began,  nor  in  what  it  ended."  A 
very  truthful  criticism  is  this  upon  some  sermons. 

A  caution,  however,  needs  to  be  observed  on  this 
danger :  it  is,  that  we  should  not  underrate  the  power 
of  language  to  make  difficult  things  clear  to  the  popular 
comprehension.  This,  I  think,  is  the  present  tendency 
of  clerical  judgment  in  our  own  country.  We  are  too 
timid,  rather  than  too  bold,  in  choosing  abstract  themes 
for  the  pulpit.  Discussions  are  imagined  to  be  above 
the  level  of  the  people  which  are  not  so.  Subjects  are 
excluded,  therefore,  which  need  discussion.  One  of  the 
tests  of  a  preacher's  homiletic  powers  is  the  degree  oi 
his  faculty  of  making  profound  thought  lucid  to  undis- 
ciplined minds.  Remember  always  that  abstractness 
is  not  necessarily  abstruseness.  Remember,  also,  that 
the  Anglo-American  mind  is  wonderfully  elastic  in  the 
reach  of  its  command  over  great  and  fundamental 
truths.  The  American  town-meeting  is  a  powerful 
educator  of  the  people.  It  creates  a  great  many  think- 
ers upon  the  principles  and  roots  of  things. 

Preachers  may  learn  wisdom  in  this  respect  from 
secular  oratory.  The  most  successful  speakers  to  the 
popular  mind  on  secular  themes  are,  after  all,  the  men 


iiEOT.  IX.]  SEKSIBLB  PBEACHINO.  137 

of  thought.  There  is  a  certain  tact  often  witnessed  in 
secular  speech  which  plants  itself  never  below  the  level 
of  the  popular  thought,  always  above  that  level,  yet  so 
near  it  as  to  secure  popular  sympathy,  and  always  to 
make  itself  understood.  I  doubt  whether  this  tact  is 
ever  consciously  chosen  as  an  expedient:  it  is  a  gift. 
But  the  men  who  possess  it  never  fail  to  gain  a  hear- 
ing ;  and  as  a  rule  they  succeed,  when  demagogues  who 
despise  the  people,  yet  truckle  to  their  tastes,  faU. 

When  President  Lincoln  was  once  inquired  of  what 
was  the  secret  of  his  success  as  a  popular  debater,  he 
replied,  "I  always  assume  that  my  audience  are  in 
many  things  wiser  than  I  am,  and  I  say  the  most  sen- 
sible thing  I  can  to  them.  I  never  found  that  they  did 
not  understand  me."  Two  things  here  were  all  that 
Mr.  Lincoln  was  conscious  of,  —  respect  for  the  intel- 
lect of  his  audience,  and  the  effort  to  say  the  most  sen- 
sible thing.  He  could  not  know  how  those  two  things 
affected  the  respect  of  his  audience  for  him^  their  trust 
in  him  as  their  superior,  and  their  inclination  to  obey 
him  on  the  instant  when  they  felt  the  magnetism  of  his 
voice.  But  he  saw,  that,  say  what  he  might  in  that 
mood,  he  got  a  hearing,  he  was  understood,  he  was 
obeyed. 

So  it  will  inevitably  be  in  the  pulpit.  The  best 
preaching  is  the  "  sensible "  preaching.  Good  sense 
can  make  any  thing  intelligible  which  good  sense  will 
wish  to  utter  to  the  popular  mind,  or  which  good  sense 
will  care  t^  hear.  We  are  in  more  danger  of  sup- 
pressing truth  which  hearers  can  understand  than 
of  attempting  to  express  truth  which  is  above  them. 
"  Overshooting  "  is  not  so  frequent  as  shooting  into  the 
ground.  Wordsworth  says,  "  There  is  no  excuse  for 
obscurity  in  writing;  because,  if  we  would  give  cm 


188  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lkct.  a 

whole  souls  to  any  thing,  as  a  bee  does  to  a  flower,  there 
would  be  little  difficulty  in  any  intellectual  employ- 
ment." John  Foster  was  a  marvel  and  a  model  of 
patience  and  of  energy  in  forcing  profound  thought 
into  expression.  He  often  spent  hours,  as  he  tells  us, 
in  the  labor  which  he  calls  "pumping;"  that  is,  forcing 
his  thoughts  up  to  the  surface  of  a  familiar  diction. 
Read  his  essays ;  see  what  his  thoughts  were ;  then 
observe  the  transparency  of  his  style.  With  such  an 
example  in  view,  one  need  never  despair  of  discussing 
intelligibly  in  the  pulpit  any  subject  which  ought  ever 
to  be  heard  of  there. 

5.  A  speaker's  thought  may  lead  him  into  an  obscure 
style  through  his  own  familiarity  with  it.  The  style  of 
a  studious  preacher  may  grow  more  obscure  as  he  grows 
older.  Language  may  become  less  serviceable  to  him 
in  the  communication  of  thought,  because  less  necessary 
to  him  in  its  conception.  The  Rev.  Dr.  Gillies  says  of 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Maclaurin,  that  his  style  underwent  this 
change  so  perceptibly  as  to  suggest  a  decline  of  intel- 
lect. Probably  it  was  no  more  than  the  heedlessness  of 
a  mind  which  consulted  its  own  wants  rather  than  those 
of  its  readers.  The  very  perfectness  of  a  man's  knowl- 
edge may  impair  his  power  to  communicate,  unless  he 
protects  himself  against  the  danger  by  voluntary  pre- 
caution. 

6.  Thought  may  lead  to  obscure  expression  through 
rapidity  in  the  succession  of  thoughts.  The  majority 
of  minds  require  time  to  take  in  a  difficult  thought,  and 
make  acquaintance  with  it.  They  need  to  dwell  upon 
the  point  of  an  argument.  They  require  illustration, 
varied  statement,  repetition.  A  diffuse  style,  therefore, 
the  sign  of  a  slow  succession  of  thought,  is  a  necessary 
style  for  some  subjects  and  some  audiences. 


LBCT.  IX.]  RAPID  fTY  OF  THOUGHT.  139 

Rapid  succession  of  disorderly  thought  is  the  general 
infirmity  of  excited  n  inds.  Extemporaneous  speakers 
are  often  thus  embarrassed.  The  wheel  takes  fire  from 
the  friction  of  its  own  revolutions.  This  is  the  cause 
of  the  majority  of  the  blunders  of  extemporaneous 
speaking.  Irish  "bulls"  have  their  counterparts  in 
some  of  the  phenomena  of  extemporaneous  oratory. 
They  are  not  expressive  of  a  vacant  mind,  but  of  the 
reverse.  They  indicate  a  freshet  of  thought.  The 
speaker  in  the  Engjish  Parliament,  who,  in  the  tumult 
of  patriotic  enthusiasm,  said,  "Sir,  I  would  give  up 
half,  yes  the  whole,  of  the  constitution,  to  save  the  other 
half,"  had  a  thought  to  express,  and  a  valuable  one ; 
but  it  overslaughed  his  tongue.  The  speaker,  who,  in  a 
paroxysm  of  tempestuous  loyalty,  said,  "Sir,  I  stand 
prostrate  at  the  feet  of  my  sovereign,"  was  not  affect- 
ing any  surprising  feat  of  gymnastic  agility.  His 
thought  formed  itself  first  in  the  standing  posture :  the 
prostration  was  an  after-thought. 

Sir  Roche  Boyle,  whose  speeches  have  so  long  been  a 
thesaurus  to  rhetorical  writers  of  illustrations  of  rhe- 
torical blunders,  was  not  void  of  thought,  even  in  the 
well-known  instance  of  his  inquiry,  "  What  has  poster- 
ity done  for  us  ?  "  He  had  a  thought  which  was  entirely 
logical  to  his  purpose.  It  was  that  of  the  reasonable- 
ness of  reciprocity  of  service.  Probably  he  was  driven 
into  a  vacuum  o?  thought  by  the  burst  of  laughter 
which  followed,  aud  which  he  met  by  explaining,  "  By 
posterity,  sir,  I  do  not  mean  our  ancestors,  but  those 
who  are  to  come  immediately  after."  One  of  the  aims 
of  conquest  in  the  mastery  of  extemporaneous  speech 
is  that  of  beating  back  the  rush  and  trampling  of 
thoughts  which  huddle  themselves  into  these  bovine 
forms  of  style. 


LECTURE  X. 

PERSPICUITY  OP  STYLE,  CONTINUED. —THE  USB  OF 
IMAGERY. 

II.  Perspicuity  of  style,  having  its  foundation  in 
the  thoughts  to  be  expressed,  is  further  affected  by  the 
use  of  imagery. 

1.  Obscurity  may  arise  from  incongruous  imagery. 
Imagery  is  painting.  The  expressiveness  of  it  is 
measured  by  its  congruity.  More  frequently  than 
otherwise,  the  incongruity  of  imagery  consists  in  its 
irrelevance.  It  may  not  be  contradictory  to  the  truth, 
but  may  have  no  natural  concern  with  it.  Lord  Shaftes- 
bury speaks  of  a  "wilderness  of  mind."  What  clear 
idea  does  one  receive  from  that  ?  He  also  writes  of  an 
"  obscure  climate  "  of  the  human  intellect.  What  is  an 
obscure  climate,  what  is  any  "  climate,"  of  the  intellect? 
Make  pictures  mentally  of  these  attempts  at  imagery, 
and  what  is  the  look  of  them?  Such  images  blur 
thought  by  taxing  the  attention  to  discover  resem- 
blances which  do  not  exist.  Congruity  is  the  first 
requisite  and  test  of  a  genuine  imaginative  diction. 

2.  Similar  is  the  obscurity  caused  by  the  use  of 
mixed  imagery.  The  Hon.  Henry  A.  Wise  of  Virginia 
will  be  immortalized  for  having  executed  John  Brown, 
rather  than  for  perpetrating  the  following  before  the 
House  of  Burgesses :  "  Virginia  has  an  iron  chain  of 
mountains  running  through  her  center,  which  God  has 
placed  there  to  milk  the  clouds  and  to  be  the  source 

140 


LAOT.  X.]  LEARNED  IMAGEBY.  Ill 

of  her  silver  rivers"  What,  in  detail,  is  the  fact  corre- 
sponding to  a  chain  of  iron  drawing  milk  from  the 
clouds,  which  flows  in  rivers  of  silver?  The  juxta- 
position, also,  of  the  milk  and  the  river,  is  quite  too 
suggestive  of  a  less  dignified  occurrence.  Surely  the 
mind  of  man,  when  it  seriously  expresses  itself  in  such 
inconceivable  compounds,  seems  fearfully  and  wonder- 
fully made. 

The  mixture  of  metaphor  with  literal  expression  is 
often  the  cause  of  obscurity.  The  interpretation  of  the 
Fifty-first  Psalm  is  disputed,  chiefly  because  of  its  in- 
termingling of  letter  and  figure.  "  I  acknowledge  my 
trangressions,"  "  Restore  unto  me  the  joy  of  thy  salva- 
tion :  "  these  are  indubitably  literal.  "  Purge  me  with 
hyssop,"  "that  the  bones  which  thou  hast  broken  may 
rejoice:"  these  are  as  indubitably  figurative.  There- 
fore the  theological  world  is  divided  on  the  question 
whether  the  following  is  literal  or  figurative :  "  I  was 
shapen  in  iniquity,  and  in  sin  did  my  mother  conceive 
me."  Is  "  original  sin  "  taught  in  these  words,  or  not? 
It  is  purely  a  question  of  rhetoric. 

3.  Obscurity,  again,  may  be-  occasioned  by  the  em- 
ployment of  learned  imagery. 

The  style  of  Jeremy  Taylor,  for  the  practical  uses  of 
preaching,  was  well-nigh  ruined  by  his  excessive  use 
of  his  classical  library.  Imagine  yourself  rehearsing  the 
following  passage  in  a  sermon  anywhere  outside  of  a 
Latin  school.  "They  thought  there  was  ...  in  the 
shades  below  no  numbering  of  healths  by  the  numeral 
letters  of  Philenium's  name,  no  fat  mullets,  no  oysters 
of  Lucrinus,  no  Lesbian  or  Chian  wines.  Therefore 
now  enjoy  the  descending  wines  distilled  through  the 
limbec  of  thy  tongue  and  larynx ;  suck  the  juices  of 
fishes,  and  the  lard  of  Apulian  swine,  and  the  condited 


142  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  x, 

bellies  of  the  scarus :  but  lose  no  time,  for  the  sun  drives 
hard,  and  the  shadow  is  long,  and  the  days  of  mourning 
are  at  hand."  Jeremy  Taylor  preached  this  gospel  at 
Golden  Grove,  which  was  nearly  as  if  you  should  preach 
it  at  the  west  parish  of  Andover.  He  had  an  audience 
of  less  than  fifty,  of  whom  possibly  five  remembered 
dimly  something  of  their  studies  of  Horace  at  Oxford, 
and  the  rest  knew  no  more  of  what  the  preacher  meant 
than  of  the  sources  of  the  Nile. 

I  have  elsewhere  noticed  that  Charles  Sumner  ob- 
scured his  oratory  by  excessive  indulgence  in  classical 
allusions,  which,  even  in  the  United-States  Senate,  be- 
long to  the  dying  reminiscences  of  collegiate  life.  He 
used  to  roll  forth  from  a  too  faithful  memory  a  string 
of  classical  recollections,  which  his  hearers  felt  to  be 
untimely  when  the  liberty  of  the  nation  was  trembling 
in  the  scale.  His  opponents  could  charge  upon  him 
sentiments  which  he  disowned,  because  the  clearness 
of  his  meaning  was  obscured  through  the  loss  of  force 
occasioned  by  illustrative  materials  which  were  not  in 
keeping  with  a  national  emergency. 

It  should  be  remarked,  however,  that  the  objection 
to  learned  imagery  is  no  apology  for  low  imagery.  The 
pulpit  demands  an  elevated  style  in  imagery  as  in  vo- 
cabulary. You  can  scarcely  do  greater  violence  to  the 
popular  associations  with  the  pulpit,  and  therefore  to 
your  hearer's  prompt  acceptance  of  your  meaning,  than 
by  the  use  of  coarse,  vulgar,  or  ludicrous  illustrations. 
The  popular  mind  never  originates  vulgar  associations 
with  the  pulpit,  never  craves  vulgar  materials  from  the 
preacher.  If  they  receive  them  from  him,  their  repug- 
nance of  feeling  will  often  obscure  their  perceptions  of 
his  meaning.  Any  thing  wir  embarrass  the  passage  of 
truth  to  their  minds  which  creates  in  them  a  conflict 


MICT.  X.]  EXCESS  OP  IMAGERY.  143 

of  taste.  A  preacher  can  never  safelj  array  against 
his  preaching  an  outraged  sense  of  reverence  among  his 
hearers. 

4.  Another  cause  of  obscurity  in  the  use  of  imagery 
is  an  excess  of  imagery.  This  may  obscure  the  meaning 
by  exaggsration.  It  may  produce  the  same  effect  by 
overloading  a  thought.  Imagery  not  needed  to  illus- 
trate a  thought  must  tend  to  cover  it  from  the  hearer's 
sight.  A  hearer's  power  of  perception  may  be  impaired 
by  it  through  mental  weariness.  Few  things  are  so 
wearisome  to  the  brain  as  a  rapid  review  of  a  gallery 
of  paintings.  Aside  from  weariness  of  eye,  there  is  an 
expenditure  of  thought  in  that  which  the  spectator  must 
supply  by  his  own  imagination.  An  excessively  picto- 
rial style  makes  a  similar  demand,  and  produces  a  simi- 
lar effect.  Mental  weariness  thus  induced  diminishes 
the  clearness  of  a  hearer's  perception.  Such  a  discourse, 
therefore,  lives  in  his  memory,  only  as  a  jumble  of  pic- 
tures. 

The  same  result  may  be  produced,  if  weariness  is  not, 
by  attracting  attention  to  the  style  for  its  own  sake. 
Attraction  to  the  style  is  distraction  from  the  thought. 
"  How  beautiful  the  metaphor !  How  novel,  how  luxu- 
riant, how  elaborate  !  One  revels  in  a  tropical  garden." 
A  hearer  who  finds  time  in  listening  to  a  discourse  to 
make  such  silent  comments  as  these,  loses  by  so  much 
the  significance,  and  therefore  often  the  clearness,  of  the 
ideas.  Why  is  it  that  the  "  Pilgrim's  Progress  "  seldom 
suggests  religious  ideas  to  children  ?  To  discern  the 
religious  teaching  beneath  the  allegorical  painting  re- 
quires a  mature  mind.  Even  for  mature  minds  we 
write  explanatory  lectures  on  the  allegory.  Edmund 
Burke  often  obscured  an  argument  by  excess  of  im- 
agery.    Byron  said  of  Curran,  that  he  had  heard  (jutted 


144  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [uccr.  x 

speak  more  poetry  than  he  had  ever  seen  written.  It 
was  no  compliment  to  an  orator.  The  style  of  the  pul- 
pit in  respect  of  imagery,  I  conceive,  should  be  grave, 
severe,  intense,  not  luxuriant,  not  rampant. 

Excess  of  imagery  is  most  hurtful  when  no  imagery 
is  needed.  Take  the  following,  from  John  Quincy 
Adams.  His  thought  is  this,  that  scientists  have  been 
obliged  to  coin  nomenclatures  from  the  Greek  language. 
This  is  a  pure  fact  in  philology.  In  a  literal  statement 
it  is  perfectly  clear :  it  needs  no  pictorial  representation. 
But  Mr.  Adams  vaults  into  the  imaginative  saddle  in 
this  style :  "  The  sexual  combinations  of  Linnaeus,  and 
the  chemical  separations  of  Lavoisier,  are  alike  exhib- 
ited in  Grecian  attire.  The  loves  of  the  plants  must 
murmur  in  the  same  dialect  which  alone  can  sound  the 
dirge  over  the  dissolution  of  water.  Neither  the  nup- 
tials of  the  blossom,  nor  the  generation  of  the  gas,  can 
be  accomplished  but  under  Grecian  names.  The  mar- 
riage and  the  divorce,  the  generation  and  the  destruc- 
tion, have  found  no  name  by  which  they  could  walk 
the  world,  without  having  recourse  to  the  language  of 
Demosthenes  and  Homer." 

One  can  not  pronounce  this  nonsense.  But  what  is 
gained  by  this  galloping  of  fancy  over  a  plain  fact  in 
philological  history  ?  It  needs  only  a  plain  statement ; 
the  plainer,  the  better.  It  is  obscured  by  imaginative 
verbiage.  Some  of  these  figures  suggest  absolutely  no 
idea  which  is  relevant  to  the  point.  What  is  meant  by 
the  assertion  that  a  Greek  "  dirge  "  is  sounded  "  over 
the  dissolution  of  water  "  ?  What  clear  notion  does  a 
reader  obtain  from  a  picture  of  "  marriage  and  divorce 
walking  in  the  language  of  Homer  "  ?  Such  a  style  in 
oral  address  can  scarcely  rise  above  the  intelligibility  of 
dreams. 


LBOT.  X.]  ABSENCE  OP  IMAGERT.  145 

5.  Yet  a  truth  lies  over  against  that  which  has  jnst 
been  named.  If  excess  of  imagery  may  obscure  one's 
meaning,  on  the  other  hand,  it  may  be  obscured  by  the 
entire  absence  of  imagery  as  well.  Abstract  thought 
often  needs  to  be  made  palpable :  the  senses  must  be 
called  in  to  the  aid  of  the  intellect.  When  the  mean- 
ing is  not  positively  vague,  it  is  not  impressively  clear 
without  a  picture.  A  certain  degree  of  dullness  for  the 
want  of  imagery  amounts  to  obscurity.  A  very  simple 
book  may  be  unintelligible  to  a  child  for  the  want  of 
pictures.  Said  the  missionary  Carey  to  a  young  preach- 
er, "  I  much  approved  your  sermon,  except  that  it  had 
no  '  likes '  in  it.  In  our  Lord's  discourses  one  constant- 
ly meets  with  the  phrases  '  like  this,' '  like  that.'  Never 
preach  a  sermon  without  *  likes.' " 

Military  commanders  say,  that  in  battle  it  is  tbe  eye 
which  is  first  vanquished.  Similar  is  the  experience  of 
the  popular  mind  under  the  sway  of  oral  discourse. 
The  first  sign  that  an  audience  has  fairly  taken  in  a 
speaker's  thought,  and  the  whole  of  it,  may  often  be 
seen  in  a  hearer's  eye.  It  is  often  produced  by  an 
illustration  which  has  flashed  the  meaning  upon  his 
vision.  "  I  have  heard  of  Thee  by  the  hearing  of  the 
ear,  but  now  mine  eye  seeth  Thee,  wherefore  I  repent," 
is  the  confession  of  the  patriarch  when  a  new  concep- 
tion of  the  being  of  God  first  dawned  on  his  mind. 

This  view  suggests  that  the  imaginative  style  in  ser- 
mons should  be  studied.  It  is  as  proper  an  object  of 
deliberate  study  as  any  other  expedient  of  public  speech. 
Why  not  ?  The  Rev.  Dr.  Witherspoon,  when  criticisec' 
for  the  want  of  imaginative  effort  in  his  sermons, 
replied,  "  I  have  never  cultivated  posies."  This  repre- 
sents the  idea  which  many  sensible  men  have  of  the 
cultivation  of  the  pictorial  style.     They  conceive  it  to 


146  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [i.eci    x. 

be  only  the  accumulation  of  finery  and  frippery.  What 
can  sujh  critics  say  of  the  usage  of  some  of  tl.e  first 
class  of  pleaders  at  the  bar  in  picturing  their  argument 
to  the  senses  of  a  jury?  The  most  successful  pleaders 
before  juries  are  of  two  classes.  The  one  class  achieves 
success  mainly  by  solid  logic ;  the  other  class,  by  picto- 
rial vividness.  To  the  latter  class  belong  nearly  all  the 
great  criminal  lawyers  in  modern  practice.  But  do  not 
these  men  "  cultivate  posies  "  ? 

Why  did  Judge  Pierrepont,  in  the  trial  of  Surratt  for 
the  assassination  of  President  Lincoln,  parade  before  the 
jury  the  maps  showing  Surratt's  line  of  travel,  the  guns 
hidden  at  Lloyd's  tavern,  the  diary  of  Booth,  his  eye- 
glass, and  the  registers  of  the  hotels  at  which  Surratt 
lodged?  Not  one  of  these  was  necessary  to  a  literal 
statement  of  the  facts,  and  all  could  have  been  proved 
by  testimony.  But  testimony  could  not  paint  the  facts 
to  the  eye  of  the  jury  as  this  was  done  by  the  table  on 
which  these  mementos  were  spread  out  before  them. 
The  aim  of  the  prosecution  was  a  purely  rhetorical,  not 
a  logical  one.  It  was  to  make  the  facts  more  clear  by 
visible  symbols.  True,  it  was,  in  part,  to  make  the  facts 
vivid  as  well  as  clear ;  but  it  is  impossible  to  separate 
the  two  things.  Where  the  aim  at  perspicuity  ends, 
and  the  aim  at  vividness  begins,  criticism  can  not  deter- 
mine. Perspicuity  is  insured  if  vividness  is  gained. 
But  was  not  this  "  cultivating  posies  "  ? 

If  we  can  learn  any  thing  from  the  experience  of  the 
leaders  of  the  bar,  it  is,  that  for  clear,  indubitable  pres- 
entation of  difficult  themes  to  the  popular  mind,  the 
study  of  imaginative  resources  is  moft  essential.  To 
no  department  of  public  speech  can  it  be  more  so  than 
to  that  of  the  pulpit.  The  subjects  of  the  pulpit  pre- 
eminently demand  it.     The  hieroglyphic  element  in  the 


LECT.  X.]  CLEARNESS   OF   VOCi.BIJLAI.Y.  147 

earliest  forms  of  written  language  needs  to  be  lepro* 
duced  in  rhetorical  painting  to  make  those  subjects  clear. 
The  necessity  is  by  no  means  limited  to  illiterate  hearers. 
Said  the  late  Judge  McLean  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the 
United  States,  "  I  want  sermons  enlivened  by  incident. 
Preaching  should  be  piquant.  I  like  an  occasional  anec- 
dote if  well  put."  "  Enlivened,"  "  piquant :  "  these 
words  carry  the  idea  of  perspicuity  as  well.  Vivid- 
ness and  clearness  differ  only  in  degree.  Do  we  not  all 
obtain  clearness  of  conception  from  the  pictorial  news- 
papers ?  Why  are  pictorial  illustrations  deemed  neces- 
sary to  a  modern  dictionary  of  the  first  class  as  an  aid 
to  definition  ? 

III.  The  course  of  these  discussions  leads  us  now  to 
observe  the  relation  of  perspicuity  of  style  to  the  words 
of  a  discourse. 

1.  It  should  be  remarked,  that  obscurity  will  often  re- 
sult from  the  use  of  words  which  are  more  or  less  tech 
nical  to  religious  usage.  We  have  before  considered  a 
pure  style  as  the  foundation  of  a  clear  stjde.  The  ne- 
cessity of  it,  especially  to  oral  address,  and  on  religious 
themes,  and  to  the  popular  mind,  has  been  remarked. 
We  need  not  repeat  what  has  been  said  on  these  topics. 
But  let  the  principles  which  have  been  advanced  be 
applied  to  one  thing  which  is  the  special  duty  of  the  pul- 
pit. It  is  the  need  of  watching  the  decadence  of  that 
phraseology  in  popular  speech  and  in  homiletic  usage 
which  expresses  the  peculiarities  of  Christian  faith  and 
experience.  I  have  defended  the  right  of  the  pulpit  to 
use  religious  technicalities,  so  far  as  these  are  a  neces- 
sity to  exact  and  full  expression  j)f  Christian  thought 
or  feeling.  The  pulpit  has  a  literary  right,  in  this  re- 
spect, equal  to  that  of  any  other  department  of  public 
speech,  or   of  any   secular   science.     When   Christian 


148  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lbot.  x. 

peculiarities  of  thought  pass  into  popular  experience, 
the  people  have  a  corresponding  right  to  their  religious 
dialect. 

But  every  such  peculiar  dialect  has  a  tendency  to  de- 
cay in  the  popular  usage,  as  well  as  in  the  philosophic 
usage  of  the  pulpit  to  which  I  have  before  referred. 
The  tendency  is  no  peculiarity  of  religious  style.  Tt 
exists  in  secular  literature  as  well.  It  exists  in  the 
language  of  art  and  in  that  of  politics.  Whatever  is 
technical  to  art,  or  science,  or  literature,  or  religion,  has 
a  tendency  to  die  out  sooner  and  more  absolutely  than 
the  great  staple  of  the  language  which  is  common  to 
them  all.  Religion  comes  under  the  common  law  more 
obviously  than  other  elements  in  the  life  of  a  people, 
only  because  the  subjects  of  religious  thought  are  more 
vital,  and  influences  are  always  at  work  more  actively 
than  upon  secular  life  to  cause  religious  life  to  deterio- 
rate. Therefore  the  experience  of  one  age  becomes 
imitation  to  the  next  age.  The  creeds  of  one  genera- 
tion become  historic  formulas  to  the  next.  The  words 
most  vital  to  both  belief  and  experience  cease  to  mean 
what  they  meant  at  the  beginning.  The  electric  life 
goes  out  of  them ;  and,  for  clear  expression  of  the  truth, 
they  die.  To  the  popular  mind  they  often  become  blurred 
in  sense  long  before  they  are  absolutely  and  hopelessly 
defunct.  This  is  a  peril  to  which  all  forms  of  religious 
faith,  and  forms  of  worship,  and  forms  expressive  of 
the  common  religious  feelings  of  men,  are  exposed. 

A  conscientious  pastor  needs  to  watch  this  tendency 
to  decadence  in  religious  dialect,  and  either  to  arrest  it, 
by  infusing  a  new  life  into  that  dialect  in  the  popular 
conceptions,  or  to  hasten  its  decline  by  the  adoption  of 
other  phraseology  in  its  place.  The  dialect  technical  to 
art  or  sect  or  class  has  no  literary  rigt  t  to  live  an  hour 


Lwrr.  X.]  DECAY  OF  WORDS.  149 

after  the  necessity  of  it  to  express  living  realities  has 
passed  away.  Thackeray,  for  example,  cuts  to  the 
quick,  when  he  satirizes  the  use,  by  the  Slite  of  the 
fashionable  society  of  England,  of  the  phrase  "  misera- 
ble sinners"  in  the  Liturgy  of  the  English  Church.  He 
implies  that  to  them  it  has  no  meaning,  and  that  in  the 
use  of  it,  therefore,  they  are  worse  than  Pagans.  If  this 
be  true,  the  authorities  of  the  church  are  bound  either 
to  revive  the  real  significance  of  the  phrase  by  more 
pungent  and  faithful  teaching,  or  to  drop  it,  as  one  of 
the  technicalities  of  religious  confession  which  have 
become  hopelessly  extinct.  Other  phraseology  should 
be  substituted  for  it,  —  phraseology  which  shall  have  a 
living  meaning  to  living  men.  Confession  of  sin  is  the 
very  last  thing  to  be  stereotyped,  and  trusted  to  live  on 
its  history. 

The  same  necessity  of  vigilance  exists  in  religious 
sects  whose  traditions  are  not  fixed  in  liturgic  forms. 
Extemporaneous  prayer,  in  the  pulpit  and  out  of  it,  is 
full  of  language  which  needs  constant  watching  lest  it 
should  become  effete ;  and  this  because  it  is  more  or 
less  made  up  of  language  technical  to  religious  uses. 
That  language  thus  used  is  an  inheritance.  It  began 
to  be,  in  a  past  age.  It  expresses  the  religious  life  of  a 
bygone  generation.  It  comes  under  the  same  law  of 
decay  which  appertains  to  all  other  fixed  language. 
The  danger  is,  that  it  will  become,  may  have  already 
become,  not  the  symbol,  but  the  substitute,  of  thought. 
Profound  convictions  are  imperiled  by  the  continued 
use  of  conventional  phraseology  after  the  life  of  it  has 
gone  out ;  so  that  nothing  in  the  real  experience  of  the 
people  responds  to  it  when  they  hear  it  or  when  they 
use  it.  Preaching,  praying,  singing,  talking,  and  the 
administration  of  sacraments,  in  such  a  dialect,  are  her- 


160  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lbot.  Z. 

rible  attempts  to  galvanize  a  corpse.  Give  to  the  people 
any  thing  but  that.  Do  something,  or  another  thing, 
or  all  things,  to  get  rid  of  conventional  meanings  of  reli- 
gious words.  Supplant  imitation  by  a  new  experience. 
Use  any  language  which  is  necessary  to  the  transforma- 
tion. In  no  other  way  can  you  make  the  world  believe 
that  an  honest  church  is  represented  by  an  honest  pulpit. 

2.  Obscurity  may  be  induced  by  the  preponderance  in 
style  of  other  than  the  Saxon  elements  of  our  language. 
With  no  conscious  cultivation  of  a  Saxon  style,  a  writer 
who  is  eminently  clear  will  possess  a  style  in  which  the 
Saxon  words  outnumber  all  others.  In  the  English  ver- 
sion of  the  Lord's  Prayer,  not  more  than  one  word  in 
eleven  are  of  other  than  Saxon  origin.  This  is  proba- 
bly a  fair  index  to  the  proportions  of  the  language  as 
actually  used  by  the  masses  of  an  English-speaking  peo- 
ple. It  does  not  follow,  that  the  same  proportions  are 
necessary  to  render  discourse  intelligible  to  them  from 
the  lips  of  others ;  but  it  does  follow,  that  a  style  which 
is  pre-eminent  for  perspicuity  will  be,  in  the  main,  from 
Saxon  roots.  Transparent  discourse  to  a  popular  audi- 
ence will  be  largely  Saxon  in  its  vocabulary.  Discourse 
not  positively  obscure  may  be  difficult  of  comprehension 
if  other  than  a  Saxon  vocabulary  preponderates.  Such 
a  style  as  the  prose  style  of  Milton,  even  though  every 
word  be  authorized  English,  may  require  in  oral  ad- 
dress a  closeness  of  attention  by  the  hearer  which  few 
audiences  will  give. 

Specially  should  the  emphatic  words  of  a  sentence,  if 
possible,  be  Saxon.  What  is  the  defect  of  Edmund 
Burke's  celebrated  diatribe  against  metaphysicians? 
"•  Their  hearts,"  he  says,  "  are  like  that  of  the  principle 
of  evil  himself,  —  incorporeal,  pure,  unmixed,  dephleg- 
mated,  defecated  evil."     The  use  of  two  unusual  and 


LEOT.  X.]  SAXON   VOCABULABY.  161 

Latinized  words  obscures  the  climax  of  the  invective. 
Few  hearers  understand  them.  Journalists  especially 
are  often  affected  in  their  use  of  the  Latin  and  Greek 
elements  of  the  language.  One  writes  of  "  lethal  wea- 
pons: "  he  could  not  say  "  deadly  weapons,"  for  he  would 
have  been  too  easily  understood.  Another  says,  "  The 
water  was  incarnadined  with  blood :  "  he  could  not  say 
"  reddened  with  blood,"  for  that  would  have  been  tame. 
Other  things  being  equal,  it  adds  much  to  the  trans- 
parency of  style  if  the  resultant  words,  in  which  the 
emphasis  of  the  idea  lies,  or  the  hinges  on  which 
the  connection  turns,  be  Saxon.  The  people  take  in 
the  force  of  such  words  easily  and  quickly. 

The  thinking  and  the  reading  of  the  masses  of  the 
people  are  in  Saxon  dialect.  Their  conversation  is 
almost  entirely  Saxon,  Hence,  as  hearers,  they  feel 
more  at  home  with  Saxon  speech  than  with  any  other. 
Note  one  or  two  illustrations  of  a  Saxon  and  a  Latin 
dialect  in  contrast.  When  Noah  had  entered  the  ark, 
the  sacred  narrative,  as  given  by  our  translators,  reads, 
"  The  Lord  shut  him  in."  Suppose  they  had  translated 
it,  "  The  Lord  incarcerated  him."  Contrast  such  a 
word  as  " inculpate "  with  its  synonym  "blame:"  is 
there  any  doubt  which  would  be  most  perspicuous  to 
the  popular  thought?  Dr.  Chalmers  once  said  in  the 
General  Assembly  of  the  Church  of  Scotland,  "Mr. 
Moderator,  I  desiderate  to  be  informed,"  etc.  Can  it 
be  questioned  that  he  would  have  been  more  promptly 
understood  if  he  had  been  content  to  say,  "  I  wish  to 
know"? 

You  will  often  find  that  a  sentence,  every  word  of 
which  may  be  authorized  English,  has  a  sickly  haze 
hanging  over  it,  as  you  imagine  your  utterance  of  it  to 
hearers,  which  is  entirely  due  to  its  Latin  vocabulary 


152  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lkot.  X. 

It  becomes  transparent  the  instant  that  3  on  strike  out 
Norman  words  from  the  points  of  emphasis,  and  put 
Saxon  words  in  their  place.  This  suggests  a  means  of 
cultivating  a  perspicuous  style,  which  is  of  special 
moment  to  preachers,  who,  as  Wesley  used  to  say  to  his 
clergy,  "though  they  think  with  the  learned,  must  speak 
with  the  common  people."  In  oral  address  to  the 
people,  use,  as  far  as  possible,  their  Saxon  vernacular. 
3.  Perspicuity  of  style  may  very  obviously  be  im- 
paired by  the  habitual  use  of  ambiguous  words.  Every 
highly  finished  language  like  our  own  abounds  with 
words  which  have  divergent  and  even  contrasted  mean- 
ings. We  speak,  for  example,  of  a  "  nervous  writer," 
meaning  a  strong  writer:  we  speak  of  a  "nervous 
woman,"  meaning  a  weak  woman.  We  say,  "  He  over- 
looked the  transaction,"  meaning  that  he  gave  it  his 
supervision :  we  say,  "  He  overlooked  the  error,"  mean- 
ing that  he  neglected  to  mark  it.  De  Quincey  speaks 
of  the  "  active  forces  of  human  nature :  "  does  he  mean 
those  which  concern  external  action,  or  those  which  are 
vigorous,  as  distinct  from  sluggish?  Malthus,  in  dis- 
cussing the  laws  of  population,  shocked  the  English 
people  by  advocating  what  he  called  "  moral  restraints  " 
upon  marriage.  Many  understood  him  to  mean,  by 
implication,  that  majriage  was  a  sin.  The  confusion 
arose  from  the  ambiguity  of  one  word.  Dean  Swift 
spoke  of  "the  reformation  of  Luther."  His  opponent 
understood  him  to  mean  the  personal  revolution  in  the 
character  of  Luther.  Ambiguity  caused  by  the  loca- 
tion of  so  insignificant  a  word  as  the  preposition  "  of  " 
clouded  a  page.  In  the  eighth  chapter  of  the  Epistle 
to  the  Romans,  St.  Paul  is  represented  as  saying, 
"  Neither  death  nor  life  .  .  .  shall  separate  us  from  the 
loye  of  God."     Commentators  tell  us  that  this  may 


LEOT.  X.]  ABSTRACT    WOEDS.  153 

mean  the  love  of  God  to  his  people,  c  r  their  love  to 
him.  Here,  again,  the  insignificant  prepositioc  becomes 
the  emphatic  hinge  on  which  the  meaning  turns.  "  What 
I  waw^,"  said  a  pompous  orator,  "is  common  sense." 
—  "  Exactly  so !  "  said  his  antagonist. 

To  this  class  of  errors  belong  those  which  consist  of  a 
literal  use  of  figurative  words  and  a  figurative  use  of 
literal  words.  Offenses  from  this  cause  against  precis- 
ion of  style,  at  a  slight  advance  in  degree  of  ambiguity 
become  offenses  against  perspicuity.  That  which  to 
one  audience  is  defective  in  precision  only,  to  another 
will  seem  defective  in  clearness.  Errors  of  biblical 
interpretation  arising  from  this  cause  are  abundant. 
The  whole  theory  of  inherited  guilt  rests  upon  such 
errors.  The  entire  biblical  argument  for  Swedenbor- 
gian  hermeneutics  has  the  same  origin.  Language  ori- 
ginally used  in  song  has  been  made  to  teach  dogmatic 
truth.  The  early  Latin  hymnology  contains  in  the 
germ  nearly  all  the  dogmatic  errors  subsequently  inter- 
polated in  Christian  creeds.  As  originated,  they  were 
the  most  of  them  liturgic  metaphors,  nothing  more. 

4.  Obscurity  of  style  may  be  caused  by  an  excessive 
use  of  general  and  abstract  words.  Oral  discourse  es- 
pecially demands  a  specific  and  concrete  vocabulary. 
An  inordinate  use  of  philosophic  terms,  however  intelli- 
gible each  one  may  be,  will  often  obscure  an  idea  by  the 
number  of  such  terms.  Be  wary  in  multiplying  such 
words  as  "  organic,"  "  relations,"  "  proportions,"  "  uni- 
son," "causality,"  "potential,"  "transcendent,"  "sub- 
sidiary," "correlative,"  "objective,"  "subjective."  A 
style  in  which  such  words  are  the  staple  of  expression 
may  throw  a  fog  over  a  subject  which  would  otherwise 
lie  in  sunlight. 

The  habitual  use  of  impersonal  titles  of  the  Godhead 


164  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  x. 

tends,  for  a  similar  reason,  to  obscure  the  idea  of  a 
personal  God.  "  The  Deity,"  "  the  Almighty,"  "  the 
Supreme,"  "  the  Eternal,"  "  Providence,"  "  Heaven  "  — 
these,  as  synonyms  of  "  God,"  tend  to  blur  the  popular 
conception  of  divine  personality.  Dr.  Arnold  detected 
the  dawn  of  pantheism  among  the  Socinians  of  England, 
long  before  they  were  themselves  aware  of  it,  in  their 
avoidance  of  the  personal  names  of  God. 

Affectation  in  style  may  take  the  form  of  an  evasion 
of  concrete  expression.  Simple,  homely,  specific  words, 
which  a  man's  good  sense  first  suggests  to  him,  are  then 
abandoned,  and  he  seeks  to  lift  up  his  thoughts  by  the 
leverage  of  grandiose  phraseology.  Says  one  writer  of 
this  sort,  "  There  is  some  subtle  essence  permeating  the 
elementary  constitution  of  crime,  which  so  operates,  that 
men  become  its  involuntary  followers  by  the  sheer  force 
of  attraction,  as  it  were."  One  can  "  expiscate  "  an  idea 
from  this  language  (to  use  one  of  Hugh  Miller's  ambi- 
tious words)  ;  but  we  can  not  catch  it  as  it  flies  in  oral 
speech.  A  recent  political  writer  describes  a  celebrated 
contemporary  as  a  "  republican  of  progressive  integ- 
rity." What  does  he  mean  ?  If  a  critic  may  extort  an 
idea  from  the  language,  can  a  hearer  do  so  on  the  spur 
of  a  moment? 

Swedenborg  writes :  "  All  the  voices  of  the  celestial 
joyfulness  qualify,  commix,  and  harmonize  in  the  fire 
which  was  from  eternity  in  the  good  quality."  This  is 
the  natural  style  of  discourse  in  dreams.  The  style  of 
modern  spiritualism  illustrates  this  error  in  a  degree 
which  is  suggestive  of  insanity.  Something  abnormal 
in  the  connection  between  words  and  ideas  seems  to  dis- 
locate both.  The  natural  laws  of  thought  seem  to  be 
suspended.  The  modem  seer  talks  and  writes  in  som- 
nambulistic phrases.     His  constructions  are   delirions- 


LECT.  X,]  DISTENSION   OF   STYLE.  155 

As  a  purely  psychological  phenomenon,  it  is  nc  marvel 
that  spiritualism  is  maniacal  in  its  tendency. 

5.  Another  occasion  of  obscurity  in  the  use  of  lan- 
guage is  an  excessive  difPuseness.  Ben  Jonson  speaks 
aptly  of  a  "  corpulent  style."  Such  a  style  weakens  the 
momentum  of  thought.  An  idea  sometimes  depends  for 
its  clearness  on  the  stimulus  to  attention  which  springs 
from  quick  movement.  The  corpulent  diction  is  pon- 
derous and  slow.  Is  your  thought  abstract,  and  there- 
fore not  easily  comprehended?  Then  let  it  be  packed 
into  few  words,  and  discharged  upon  an  audience  like 
the  load  of  a  musket.  Perspicuity  depends  on  the  state 
of  the  hearer's  thinking  as  much  as  on  the  speaker's 
thought.  Some  thoughts  we  can  not  make  clearer  than 
they  are  by  the  mechanism  of  style :  something  is 
needed  to  quicken  the  hearer's  faculty  of  perception. 
Laconic  utterance  Avill  often  do  this.  You  can  be  hit 
by  a  puffball,  and  not  know  it ;  not  so  if  you  are  hit  by 
a  bullet.  Similar  is  the  difference  between  the  diffuse 
and  the  condensed  style  as  a  means  of  stimulus  to  the 
hearer's  thinking  power. 

Preambles,  reports  of  committees,  diplomatic  resolves, 
are  often  obscure  through  mere  distention  of  style.  The 
authors  beat  about  the  bush  in  fear  of  saying  a  thing 
shortly.  A  committee  on  street-railways  reports  to  the 
Legislature  of  New  York  in  this  manner:  "It  is  not 
bo  be  denied,  that  any  system  which  demands  the  pro- 
pulsion of  cars  at  a  rapid  rate,  at  an  elevation  of  fifteen 
or  twenty  feet,  is  not  entirely  consistent,  in  the  public 
estimation,  with  the  greatest  attainable  immunity  from 
the  dangers  of  tiansportation."  No  style  deserves  to  be 
called  perspicuous  which  needs  a  second  reading.  This 
specimen  does  so.  What  is  the  sense  of  it  expressed 
shortly?     Abandon   the   negative    circumlocution,   ex 


156  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lkct.  x 

change  long  words  for  short  ones,  and  speak  without 
indirecticn.  Then  the  statement  is  reduced  to  this,  "  It 
is  true  that  people  think  that  a  railway  twenty  feet 
above  the  street  is  dangerous."  This  is  all  that  the 
honorable  committee  meant.  But  it  does  not  sound 
elaborate  :  therefore  the  idea  was  bloated  into  the  al- 
dermanic  diction. 

Herbert  Spencer  founds  the  whole  theory  of  style  ou 
the  principle  of  economizing  the  mental  force  of  hearers. 
Any  thing  that  economizes  attention  without  loss  of  per- 
ception adds  to  the  clearness  of  an  idea.  Therefore  a 
style  which  taxes  attention  by  needless  circumlocution 
tends  to  produce  obscurity.  The  power  of  attention  in 
the  most  willing  audiences  is  limited :  beyond  its  limit, 
speech  to  them  is  nothing  but  words.  Moreover,  a  re- 
dundant style  will  in  many  cases  distract  attention  from 
the  thought  to  the  words.  Hearers  are  bewildered. 
Though  disposed  to  give  attention,  their  minds  are  di- 
verted from  the  working  words  to  the  sinecures.  Style 
is  often,  like  a  hive  of  bees,  made  up  of  workers  and 
drones.  Let  me  give  you  an  illustration  selected  from 
a  work  on  natural  science,  written  by  a  clergyman  of 
the  English  Church,  a  graduate  of  one  of  the  great  uni- 
versities, and  who  has  half  a  score  of  honorary  initials 
attached  to  his  name.  The  style  is  very  tedious :  it  is 
comically  dull.  It  is  impossible  to  exaggerate  it  in 
caricature.  You  will  bear  with  it  for  the  sake  of  ob- 
serving the  multitude  of  other  faults  than  obscurity 
which  burden  a  style  made  plethoric  with  words. 

"  All  external  objects  are  in  their  truest  rfnse  visible  embodi- 
ments or  incarnations  of  divine  ideas  which  are  roughly  sculptured 
in  the  hard  granite  that  underlies  the  living  and  breathing  surface 
of  the  world  above ;  penciled  in  delicate  tracery  upon  each  bark- 
flake  that  encompasses  the  tree-trunk,  each  leaf  that  trembles  in  the 


LBor.  X.I  EXCESSIVE   CONCISENESS.  167 

breeze,  each  petal  that  fills  the  air  with  fragrant  efflmmce ;  assum 
ing  a  living  and  breathing  existence  in  the  rhythmic  t  irobbings  of 
the  heart-pulse  that  urges  the  life-stream  through  the  body  of  every 
animated  being;  and  attaining  their  greatest  perfection  in  man, 
who  is  thereby  bound  by  the  very  fact  of  his  existence  to  outspeak 
and  outact  the  divine  ideas  which  are  the  true  instincts  of  humanity, 
before  they  are  crushed  or  paralyzed  by  outward  circumstances. 
.  .  .  Until  man  has  learned  to  realize  his  own  microcosmal  being, 
and  will  himself  develop  and  manifest  the  god-thoughts  that  are 
continually  inbreathed  into  his  very  essential  nature,  it  needs  that 
the  creative  ideas  should  be  incarnated  and  embodied  in  every  pos 
Bible  form,  so  that  they  may  retain  a  living  existence  upon  earth.' 

Have  you  ever  seen  a  yellow  fog  hanging  over  a  piece 
of  marshland,  which  makes  the  scenery  look  as  if  it  had 
the  jaundice  ?  Like  that  is  this  specimen  of  style.  If 
the  writer  had  deliberately  set  about  the  experiment  of 
overloading  his  thought  with  as  many  defects  of  diction 
as  he  could  crowd  into  the  given  space,  he  could  not 
have  succeeded  better.  Note  the  drawling  length  of 
construction,  the  involutions  of  clauses  upon  clauses, 
"Alps  on  Alps,"  the  tautological  repetitions,  the  com- 
pound words,  the  new-fangled  word^,  the  straining  after 
eccentric  words,  and  the  sickliness  of  the  general  effect. 
You  find  almost  every  style  here  but  that  of  good  taste 
and  good  sense.  Imagine  its  delivery  in  oral  address  on 
a  warm  Sunday  afternoon  in  July !  We  may  well  com- 
mend it  to  the  chaplain  of  a  nervine  hospital,  in  which 
patients  congregate  who  are  afflicted  with  insomnia. 

6.  A  certain  cause  of  obscurity  in  style  is  the  oppo- 
site of  the  one  last  named.  It  is  excess  of  conciseness. 
In  moderate  degree,  as  we  have  observed,  conciseness  is 
an  aid  to  precision,  but  in  excess  impairs  it :  so,  in  mod- 
erate degree,  conciseness  promotes  perspicuity,  but  in 
excess  clouds  it.  Hence  arises  the  difficulty  of  translat- 
ing sententious  authors.     Do  you  not  remember  how 


158  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [uacr.  x 

the  style  of  Tacitus  tried  your  patience?  In  all  Ian 
guages  is  found  a  class  of  authors,  who,  like  Tacitus, 
lay  too  heavy  a  tax  upon  interpreters  by  the  multitude 
of  their  suppressed  words.  An  excessively  elliptical 
style  can  not  be  a  very  clear  style. 

But  it  should  be  remarked,  that,  in  oral  speech,  the 
perspicuity  of  laconic  utterance  depends  partly  on  elocu- 
tion. Aided  by  an  animated  delivery,  complete  thoughts 
may  be  conveyed  by  hints.  A  shrug  of  the  shoulder 
may  express  a  thought  without  words.  Pantomime  may 
be  made  transparent.  An  Italian  talks  with  his  fingers. 
Some  speakers  can  express  more  by  their  eyebrows  than 
by  their  tongues.  Those  parts  of  a  sermon  which  admit 
of  these  and  other  positive  auxiliaries  to  utterance  in 
delivery  may  admit  of  an  extreme  of  conciseness  which 
would  be  unintelligible  without  such  auxiliaries.  This 
effect  can  not  be  put  on  tame  discourse  ;  but,  if  the  force 
of  thought  admits  it,  delivery  becomes  the  complement 
of  language.  The  hearer's  receptive  power  is  quickened. 
Tone,  look,  gesture,  attitude,  mean  as  much  to  him 
as  words.  Bold  words,  unqualified  words,  extravagant 
words,  the  extreme  of  hyperbole,  may  not  be  misunder- 
stood with  such  a  commentary  of  action.  False  words 
may  not  deceive :  contradictions  may  be  true.  Of 
American  speakers  on  the  platform,  Mr.  John  B.  Gough 
presents  a  notable  example  of  this  tribute  of  elocution 
to  style.  Mr.  Gough  in  pantomime  can  express  more 
than  some  preachers  who  read  without  delivery. 


LECTURE    XI. 

PERSPICUITY  OF  CONSTRU  3TI0.R. 

A  STUDIOUS  writer,  and  especially  one  whose  work 
compels  a  careful  adjustment  of  language  to  the  recep- 
tive powers  of  a  mixed  assembly,  soon  learns  that  the 
perspicuity  of  style  is  vitally  dependent  on  clearness 
of  construction.  Construction  is  as  vital  to  style  as  to 
architecture.  Stiffness  of  construction  tends  to  obscu- 
rity. Any  thing  unfriendly  to  the  sense  of  ease  is  inimi- 
cal to  clearness.  A  hearer  wearies  of  a  measured  drill 
of  diction  in  which  sentences  file  out  like  the  squads  of 
a  regiment.  Monotony  of  construction  tends  to  obscuri- 
ty. It  lulls  the  thinking  power.  It  almost  necessitates 
monotone  in  delivery.  Circumlocution  in  construc- 
tion tends  to  obscurity.  Did  you  never  discover  the 
cause  of  a  certain  dimness  of  impression  in  the  want  of 
quick  movement  of  discourse?  The  speaker's  thought 
is  a  stone  in  a  sling  from  which  it  is  never  ejected.  He 
talks  around,  and  around,  and  around ;  yet  you  do  not 
see  the  upshot  of  the  business.  Abruptness  of  construc- 
tion tends  to  obscurity.  Why  is  Carlyle's  "French 
Revolution  "  hard  reading  ?  Mainly  becav.se  of  the  jerks 
in  style,  by  which  English  syntax  is  so  rudely  dealt  with 
that  half  your  mental  force  is  expended  in  re-adjusting 
words  to  sense.  Any  defect  which  is  pervasive  in  style 
tends  so  far  to  defeat  the  object  of  speech.  Yet  very 
little  is  achieved  if  criticism  ends  with  such  general  ob- 

159 


160  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  xi 

Bervations  as  these.  I  must  incur  the  risk  of  wearying 
you  by  some  specifications  in  detail.  A  few  such  will 
at  least  illustrate  the  kind  of  criticism  to  which  every 
man  should  subject  his  own  productions. 

1.  Recalling,  also,  the  fact  observed  in  a  former  Lec- 
ture, that  defects  in  precision  of  construction,  and  defects 
in  perspicuity  of  construction,  are  the  same  in  kind, 
differing  only  in  degree,  we  may  profitably  note  as  one 
source  of  obscurity  a  defective  arrangement  oi  pronouns 
and  their  antecedents.  Alison  the  historian  says  of  the 
Russian  soldiers,  upon  their  entry  into  Dresden,  "  They 
lay  down  to  rest  behind  their  steeds,  picketed  to  the 
walls,  which  had  accompanied  them  from  the  Volga  to 
the  Don."  "Which"  logically  refers  to  "steeds," 
grammatically  to  the  "walls."  Immediate  proximity 
does  not  always  decide  the  natural  connection  between 
a  pronoun  and  its  antecedent.  A  distant  antecedent 
sometimes  by  its  prominence  may  displace  the  nearer 
and  the  true  one.  Prior,  in  his  "  Life  of  Burke," 
writes,  "  The  war  then  exciting  attention  to  the  Ameri- 
can Colonies  as  one  of  the  chief  points  in  dispute,  they 
came  out  in  two  volumes  octavo."  Who  are  "  they  "  ? 
He  means  that  the  chief  points  in  dispute  were  then 
published ;  and  so  grammatical  connection  would  indi- 
cate. But  the  construction  leads  one  to  suppose  that 
the  American  Colonies  were  the  publishers ;  yet  the 
word  "  colonies  "  is  the  more  remote  antecedent.  Prox- 
imity, then,  can  not  always  be  trusted  to  determine  the 
question.  Dr.  Chalmers,  in  a  speech  on  Christian  union, 
says,  "  I  am  not  aware  of  any  topics  of  difference  which 
I  do  not  regard  as  so  many  men  of  straw ;  and  I  shall 
be  delighted  if  these  gentlemen  get  the  heads  of  the 
various  denominations  together,  and  make  a  bonfire  of 
them'''     Bonfire  of  what,  or  of  whom?  —  of  the  "men 


LECT.  XI.]  PRONOUNS   AND  ANTECEDENTS.  161 

of  straw,"  or  of  the  "heads  of  the  denommations " ? 
Here,  again,  proximity  does  not  settle  the  question. 
The  more  remote  antecedent  is  the  true  one. 

Sometimes  confusion  is  created  by  the  repetition  of 
the  same  pronoun  with  different  antecedents.  Arch 
bishop  Tillotson  writes :  "  Men  look  with  an  evil  eye 
upon  the  good  that  is  in  others,  and  think  that  their  rep- 
utation obscures  them,  and  that  their  commendable  quali- 
ties do  stand  in  their  light ;  and  therefore  they  do  what 
they  can  to  cast  a  cloud  over  them,  that  the  shining  of 
their  virtues  may  not  obscure  them.""  Who  are  "  they  "? 
Who  are  "them"?  What  is  "their"?  What,  who, 
which,  is  any  thing  in  this  round-robin  of  pronouns? 
A  burlesque  on  grammatical  antecedents  could  not  be 
more  adroitly  executed. 

Sometimes  this  defect  amounts  to  a  blundering  obli- 
viousness of  all  antecedence.  The  following  tearful 
reproof  was  given  by  a  judge  of  the  State  of  New  York 
to  a  prisoner  just  convicted :  "  Prisoner  at  the  bar, 
nature  has  endowed  you  with  a  good  education  and 
respectable  family  connections,  instead  of  which  you  go 
around  the  country  stealing  ducks."  This  is  found 
among  the  "  Humors  of  the  Day."  But  in  what  is  it 
essentially  less  elegant  or  accurate  than  the  following, 
from  Loring's  "  Hundred  Boston  Orators  "  ?  "  William 
Sullivan  was  grandson  of  John  Sullivan,  who  came  from 
Ireland  in  a  ship  which  was  driven  by  stress  of  weather 
into  a  port  on  the  coast  of  Maine,  and  settled  at  Ber- 
wick." How  did  John  Sullivan's  ship  reach  Berwick  ? 
Is  Berwick  one  of  the  ports  on  the  coast  of  Maine? 
Again  he  writes :  "  His  oration  produced  such  a  strong 
impression,  that  it  led  to  his  election  to  the  House  of  Rep- 
resentatives, and  was  afterwards  elected  to  the  Senate." 
Are  orations  eligible  to  the  Senate  in  Massachusetts  ? 


162  ENGLISH   STYLE.  .i  kct.  xi 

This  blundering  in  antecedence  is  often  burlesqued 
by  Mr.  Dickens.  His  colloquial  pictures  of  low  life  are 
full  of  it.  In  the  extreme  it  marks  the  absolute  absence 
of  culture.  Bret  Harte  illustrates  this  in  the  "  Heathen 
Chinee."  "  Which  I  wish  to  remark,"  says  "  truthful 
James ; "  and  again,  "  which  we  liad  a  small  game." 

This  defect  sometimes  destroys,  not  only  the  finish  of 
an  elegant  style,  but  the  very  substance  of  the  speaker's 
meaning.  The  following  incident  in  the  history  of  the 
United-States  Senate  will  illustrate  this :  — 

The  7th  of  March,  1850,  was  a  critical  date  in  the 
career  of  Daniel  Webster.  He  then  delivered  his  last 
great  speech  in  the  Senate.  It  was  in  defense  of  the 
Fugitive-Slave  Law.  The  country  rang  with  denun- 
ciations and  defenses  of  that  speech  till  he  died.  One 
of  the  most  effective  anathemas  upon  it  depended  on 
the  antecedent  of  a  pronoun.  As  reported  at  first,  the 
speech  read  thus :  "  Mr.  Mason's  bill,  with  some  amend- 
ments, which  I  propose  to  support  to  its  full  extent." 
This  committed  Mr.  Webster  to  the  bill  as  it  then  stood 
with  amendments  then  before  the  Senate.  Some  of 
those  amendments  were  deemed  by  antislavery  men  the 
most  atrocious  features  of  the  bill.  "  But,"  said  Mr. 
Webster,  "  I  have  been  misreported.  What  I  said  was 
this,  '  Mr.  Mason's  bill,  which,  with  some  amendments^  I 
propose  to  support  in  its  full  extent.'  "  This  committed 
him  to  the  bill  indeed,  but  with  amendments  of  his  own, 
which  might  ameliorate  the  bill,  and  render  it  less  objec- 
tionable to  his  constituents.  His  reputation  with  them 
hung  for  a  time  upon  the  syntax  of  that  one  sentence. 
The  death  of  the  great  statesman  two  years  later  was 
attributed  by  many  to  his  loss  of  the  nomination  and 
election  to  the  Presidency.  If  this  was  true,  his  epitaph 
might  have  been  inscribed,  with  more  truth  than  is  com- 


r^CT.  XI.]  ADJECTIVES   AND   ADVERBS.  163 

mon  to  epitaphs,  "  Died  of  the  dislocation  of  a  relative 
pronoun." 

Few  writers  exist  who  do  not  sometimes  blunder  in 
the  adjustment  of  pronouns  to  their  antecedents.  Says 
Reinhard,  in  his  "  Memoirs  and  Confessions,"  "  I  have 
always  had  difQculty  in  making  a  proper  use  of  pra 
nouns.  Indeed,  I  have  taken  great  pains  so  to  use  them 
that  ambiguity  should  be  impossible,  and  yet  have  often 
failed  in  the  attempt."  If  a  careful  writer  and  a  prac- 
ticed critic  often  failed,  what  can  be  expected  from  a 
reckless  writer,  to  whom  study  of  style  appears  con- 
temptible ? 

2.  A  similar  source  of  obscurity  in  construction  is  a 
defective  arrangement  of  adjectives  and  adverbs.  Adjec- 
tives and  adverbs  are  qualifying  words.  This  is  their 
sole  use.  What  do  they  qualify?  is  often  a  capital 
inquiry,  on  which  the  whole  sense  depends.  "  Such  was 
the  end  of  Murat  at  the  premature  age  of  forty-eight:  " 
so  writes  Mr.  Alison.  His  construction  does  not  make 
sense:  Murat's  age  could  not  be  "premature."  Did 
he  reach  the  fatal  age  of  forty-eight  in  less  time  than 
his  contemporaries  ?  Alison  means  to  say,  "  Such  was 
the  premature  end  of  Murat,"  etc. 

"  The  command  was  reluctantly  forced  upon  Prince 
Eugene,"  he  writes.  Did  Napoleon,  then,  act  against  his 
own  will  ?  The  historian  says  that,  but  the  connection 
shows  that  he  did  not  mean  that.  He  meant  to  say, 
that  the  command  was  received  with  reluctance.  Again 
he  writes,  in  speaking  of  Napoleon :  "  He  could  only  live 
in  agitation ;  he  could  only  breathe  in  a  volcanic  atmos- 
phere." That  is  to  say,  in  agitation  and  in  a  volcanic 
atmosphere,  all  that  he  could  do  was  to  live  and  to 
bj-eathe.  Good  sense  is  this,  but  just  the  sense  which 
Alison  did  not  mean.     Change  the  location  of  the  ad- 


164  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  xl 

verb,  and  you  perceive  what  lie  did  mean,  "He  could 
live  only  in  agitation ;  he  could  breathe  only  in  a 
volcanic  atmosphere."  Once  more :  "  When  Napoleon's 
system  of  government  became  unfortunate  alone,  it  was 
felt  to  be  insupportable."  Does  he  mean  that  it  became 
insupportable  when  misfortune  found  it  without  allies  ? 
Not  at  all.  He  means  to  say,  "  Only  when  Napoleon's 
system  of  government  became  unfortunate,  it  was  felt 
to  be  insupportable." 

The  location  of  an  adverb  is  one  of  the  most  perplex 
ing  details  of  composition.  One  must  have  a  very  well 
trained  and  quick  taste  to  decide  upon  it  intuitively 
with  uniform  accuracy.  Take,  for  example,  the  word 
"  only,"  which  is  sometimes  adverbial,  and  sometimes 
adjective,  in  its  qualifying  force.  I  select  from  Gib- 
bon's History  a  sentence  of  moderate  length,  which 
contains  the  word.  Observe  how  many  distinct  mean- 
ings may  be  obtained  by  simply  sliding  it  gradually  from 
the  beginning  to  the  end  of  the  sentence. 

First,  "  Only  they  forgot  to  observe,  that,  in  the  first 
ages  of  society,  a  successful  war  against  savage  animals 
is  one  of  the  most  beneficial  labors  of  heroism  ;  "  that 
is,  they  did  some  things  well,  but  one  thing  not  well,  — 
"  they  forgot  to  observe,"  etc.  Secondly,  "  They  only 
forgot  to  observe,"  etc. ;  that  is,  either  they  were  the 
only  persons  who  did  so  ;  or,  tliirdly,  they  did  not 
intentionally  neglect  the  fact,  they  only  forgot  it. 
Fourthly,  "  They  forgot  to  observe,  that  only  in  the 
first  ages  of  society,"  etc. ;  that  is,  there  is  but  one 
period  in  the  history  of  society  in  which  the  fact  ob- 
served is  true.  Fifthly,  "  They  forgot  to  observe,  that, 
in  the  first  ages  only  of  society^'"'  etc. ;  that  is,  it  is  not 
true  in  the  ages  preceding  organized  social  life.  Sixthly, 
"  They  forgot  to  observe,  that,  in  the  first  ages  of  society, 


tnrrr.  xi.]  LOCATION   OF   ADVERBS.  165 

only  a  successful  war  against  savage  animals,"  etc. ;  that 
is,  not  war  which  is  a  failure.  Seventhl}^  "  T  ley  forgot 
to  observe,  that,  in  the  first  ages  of  society,  a  successful 
war  only  against  savage  animals,"  etc. ;  that  is,  not  a 
war  for  their  preservation.  Eighthly,  "  They  forgot  to 
observe,  that,  in  the  first  ages  of  society,  a  successful 
war  against  only  savage  animals,"  etc. ;  that  is,  not  a 
war  against  animals  of  domestic  use.  Ninthly,  "  They 
forget  to  observe,  etc.,  war  against  savage  animals  is 
only  one  of  the  most  beneficial  labors ;  "  that  is,  there 
are  other  such  labors  of  heroism.  Tenthly,  "  They  for- 
got to  observe,  etc.,  a  successful  war  against  savage 
animals  is  one  of  only  the  most  beneficial  labors  of 
heroism  ; "  that  is,  it  is  not  to  be  deemed  a  labor  of 
inferior  worth ;  or,  eleventhly,  "  They  forgot  to  observe, 
etc.,  that  such  a  war  is  one  of  only  the  most  beneficial 
labors  of  heroism ; "  that  is,  it  is  not  to  be  regarded  as 
a  pastime.  Twelfthly,  "  They  forgot  to  observe,  that, 
etc.,  is  one  of  the  most  beneficial  labors  of  heroism 
only ; "  that  is,  no  virtue  inferior  to  heroism  is  com- 
petent to  the  task. 

Here  are  no  less  than  twelve  distinct  shades  of 
thought,  not  all  of  them  elegantly,  not  all  precisely, 
but  all  perspicuously,  expressed,  with  the  aid  of  em- 
phasis in  the  reading,  by  simply  sliding  one  word 
from  point  to  point  from  the  beginning  o  the  end  of 
a  sentence  of  but  twenty-seven  words. 

It  is  said  in  one  of  our  standard  text-books  on  rheto- 
ric, that  it  has  been  proved  by  experiment,  that  the 
line  in  one  of  Gray's  poems, 

"  The  plowman  homeward  plods  his  weary  way," 

can  by  transposition  be  read  in  eighteen  different  ways 
without  losing  good  English  sense.     The  words  of  the 


166  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  sx 

line  are  susceptible  of  over  five  thousat.d  different  com- 
binations. One  writer  adduces  a  sentence  of  which  the 
words  are  susceptible  of  four  hundred  and  sevent^^-nine 
millions  of  distinct  combinations.  A  curious  writer 
transcribing  them  at  the  rate  of  a  thousand  a  day 
would  complete  the  record  in  thirteen  hundred  and 
twelve  years.  In  the  same  proportion  of  grammatical 
constructions  to  alphabetic  combinations  which  exists 
in  the  possibilities  of  the  line  from  Gray,  the  elements 
of  this  sentence  would  admit  of  more  than  seventeen 
hundred  thousand  grammatical  sentences.  This  illus- 
trates the  degree  of  peril  to  which  a  careless  writer  is 
exposed,  of  saying  what  he  does  not  mean.  It  illus- 
trates, also,  the  difficulty  which  a  critical  writer  may 
experience  in  saying  with  perfect  perspicuity  what  he 
does  mean. 

De  Quincey  confirms  this  view.  In  some  remarks  on 
the  writings  of  St.  Paul  he  observes  :  "  People  who  have 
practiced  composition  as  much  and  with  as  vigilant  au 
eye  as  myself  know  also,  by  thousand  of  cases,  how 
infinite  is  the  disturbance  caused  in  the  logic  of  a 
thought  by  the  mere  position  of  a  word  so  despicable 
as  the  word  'even.'  .  .  .  The  station  of  a  syllable  may 
cloud  the  judgment  of  a  council." 

3.  Obscurity  in  construction  may  be  caused  by  a 
defective  arrangement  of  the  qualifying  clauses  of  a 
sentence.  The  laws  which  govern  qualifying  clauses 
aie  the  same  with  those  which  govern  qualifying  words. 
The  danger  of  obscurity  is  therefore  the  same.  "  When 
the  foundation  of  the  Pagan  mythology  gave  way,  the 
whole  superstructure,  of  necessity,  fell  to  the  ground  :  " 
thus  writes  that  "  vigilant "'  writer  De  Quincey,  in  one 
of  his  philosopliical  essays.  Did  the  Pagan  doctrine  of 
"  necessity  "  depend  on  the  Pagan  mythology  ?  and  did 


rBCT,  xi.J  EMPHATIC   CLAUSES.  167 

he  mean  to  say  that  ?  He  does  say  it.  "  I  kaow  not 
how  they  can  be  saved  from  perishing  there  by  famine, 
without  parliamentary  assistance  :  "  so  writes  Robert 
Southey,  in  one  of  his  letters.  Did  the  absence  of 
parliamentary  aid  aggravate  the  evil  of  death  bj 
starvation  ?  and  did  he  mean  to  imply  that  ?  He  does 
imply  it.  An  affectionate  farewell  was  that  recorded 
by  an  editor  in  Connecticut,  who  published  the  item  of 
local  news,  that  a  man  down  there  "  blew  out  his 
brains,  after  bidding  his  wife  good-by,  with  a  shot- 
gun." But  enough :  such  constructions  doom  them- 
selves. 

4.  Another  occasion  of  obscure  construction  may  be 
a  failure  to  express  the  true  order  of  thought  in  the 
emphatic  portions  of  a  sentence.  We  have  just  been 
considering  obscurity  in  secondary  clauses.  The  same 
evil  often  pervades  the  whole  structure.  The  order  of 
succession  is  no  order  ;  it  jumbles  the  sense  ;  it  is  chaos. 
j3r.  Johnson  writes  :  "  This  work  in  its  full  extent,  being 
now  afflicted  with  the  asthma,  he  had  not  the  courage 
to  undertake."  Who,  what,  which,  had  the  asthma  ? 
An  express-company  advertises  tlrat  it  will  not  be  re- 
sponsible for  loss  by  fire,  or  the  acts  of  God,  or  Indians, 
or  other  enemies  of  the  government."  East  Tennessee 
has  a  tombstone  on  which  is  inscribed  this  epitaph : 
"  She  lived  a  life  of  virtue,  and  died  of  cholera-morbus 
caused  by  eating  green  fruit  in  the  hope  of  a  blessed 
immortality.  Go  thou  and  do  likewise."  On  a  tomb- 
stone in  a  churchyard  in  Ulster,  Eng.,  is  the  following : 
"  Erected  to  the  memory  of  John  Phillips,  accidentally 
shot,  as  a  mark  of  affection  by  his  brother." 

Who  can  solve  the  enigma,  that  epitaphs  are  such  a 
stoiehouse  of  rhetorical  blunders?  Is  the  world  of  the 
living  in  cons})iiacy  to  burlesque  the  dead ?     The  litera 


168  ENGLISH   STOiE.  [lect.  xi. 

ture  of  the  pulpit  does  not  equal  in  this  respect  that  of 
the  tombstone ;  but  that  degree  of  clearness  which  is 
essential  to  an  elegant  perspicuity  is  often  sacrificed 
in  sermons  by  heedlessness  of  construction.  It  is  no 
sufficient  apology  for  such  errors  that  they  are  detected 
as  soon  as  seen.  That  is  the  acme  of  the  evil :  hearers 
detect  them  as  well.  A  public  speaker  needs  such  a 
habit  of  mental  command  of  construction,  that  he  shall 
unconsciously  eject  such  blunders  from  his  style  in  the 
heat  and  swift  movement  of  composition.  Style  must 
be  as  nimble  as  thought. 

5.  Obscure  construction  is  often  due  to  an  excessive 
or  careless  use  of  ellipsis.  "  He  must  be  an  irreparable 
loss  to  his  family :  "  so  writes  Dr.  Arnold,  in  a  letter  of 
condolence.  The  error  is  not  infrequent  in  the  co\- 
loquial  style  of  cultivated  people.  The  ellipsis  is  un- 
warrantable, for  some  such  construction  as  this:  "His 
decease  occasions  an  irreparable  loss  to  his  family." 
"  The  French  Government  made  great  exertions  to  put 
their  navy  on  a  respectable  footing ;  but  all  their  efforts 
on  that  element  resulted  in  disaster."  On  what  ele- 
ment? The  writer,  Mr.  Alison,  has  named  none  in  the 
context.  Alison's  History  abounds  with  such  miscon- 
structions :  search  for  them  anywhere ;  you  can  not  go 
wrong. 

A  common  instance  of  a  careless  use  of  ellipsis,  which 
calls  for  reconstruction,  is  found  in  certain  forms  of 
inverted  sentence.  "  Conscious  of  his  own  importance, 
the  aid  of  others  was  not  solicited."  The  biographer 
of  Curran  writes  of  him :  "  Eminent  at  the  bar,  it  is  in 
Parliament  we  see  his  faculties  in  full  development." 
You  can  not  parse  these  sentences  by  the  rules  of  Eng- 
lish syntax.  When  the  Rev.  Dr.  Harris  was  inaugurated 
to  the  presidency  of  Bowdoin  College,  the  clergyman 


LKCT.  XI.]  USE   OF   ELLIPSIS.  169 

appointed  to  deliver  the  address  of  indu3tion  began 
thus :  "  Rev.  Dr.  Harris,  sir,  having  been  elected  presi- 
dent by  the  unanimous  vote  of  the  boards  of  trustees 
and  overseers  of  Bowdoin  College,  I  come  on  their  behalf 
to  induct  you,"  etc.  Grammatically  this  implies  that  the 
orator  appointed  to  give  the  address  was  the  president- 
elect. To  express  the  real  meaning  with  grammatical 
precision,  the  whole  sentence  must  be  reconstructed,  or 
broken  into  two. 

A  frequent  form  of  careless  use  of  ellipsis  occurs  in 
cases  in  which  the  phrases  "  the  one  "  and  "  the  other," 
or  "  the  former  "  and  "  the  latter,"  are  employed.  Not 
always  are  these  forms  obscure,  but  they  always  need 
to  be  scrutinized.  Specially  if  they  are  repeated  in  a 
series  of  antithetic  declarations,  they  need  extreme  care. 

Another  form  of  ellipsis  which  may  easily  degenerate 
into  obscure  construction  is  that  of  a  hypothetical  ex- 
pression of  an  alternative.  An  example  must  explain 
this.  "  If  this  trade  be  fostered,  we  shall  gain  from 
one  nation ;  and  if  another,  from  another."  "  If  we 
hold  to  the  faith  of  the  church,  we  shall  have  the  con- 
fidence of  the  church ;  and  if  not,  not."  Such  ellipses 
as  these  carry  the  idiom  to  its  extreme.  The  subject 
must  be  very  simple,  and  the  thought  very  direct,  to 
render  them  perspicuous.  We  can  not,  for  this  reason, 
exclude  all  extreme  ellipses :  we  can  only  say  that  they 
should  be  studiously,  and  not  abundantly  used.  If  such 
a  construction  suggests  a  doubt  of  its  clearness,  let  it 
be  abandoned. 

In  Fronde's  "  History  of  England  "  we  find  this  sen- 
tence :  "  Had  Darnley  proved  the  useful  Catholic  which 
the  Queen  intended  him  to  be,  they  would  have  sent 
him  to  his  account  with  as  small  compunction  as  Jael 
sent  the  Canaanite  captain;  or  they  would  have  blessed 


170  ENGLISH   STYLE.  \hKCr.  xt 

the  arm  tljat  did  it,  with  as  much  elocpience  as  Deborah." 
Grant  White  indicates  the  excessive  omission  of  needed 
words  in  this  example  by  inquiring,  "  How  small  com- 
punction did  Jael  send  the  Canaanite  captain?  What 
degree  of  eloquence  did  the  arm  attain  that  did  it  with 
as  much  as  Deborah  ?  What  was  it  f  How  much  elo- 
quence was  Deborah?"  Style  which  suggests  such 
blind  queries  is  slovenly.  The  connection  may  prevent 
obscurity,  but  not  a  loss  of  precision.  Style  in  which 
such  looseness  is  indulged  will  often  degenerate  from 
the  loose  to  the  obscure.  The  step  between  is  not  so 
long  as  that  between  the  sublime  and  the  ridiculous. 

6.  A  still  further  cause  of  obscurity  in  construction 
is  an  abuse  of  the  parenthesis.  Parenthesis  may  cause 
obscurity  by  its  position.  It  may  be  so  located  as  to 
break  the  flow  of  sense.  It  may  separate  a  verb  from 
its  nominative  by  too  large  a  hiatus.  Some  writers  thus 
put  into  an  English  sentence  the  peculiarities  of  Latin 
syntax.  A  Roman  ear  could  bear  in  this  respect  what 
an  English  ear  can  not.  A  parenthesis  is  a  chasm : 
the  hearer  must  be  able  to  vault  over  it.  Not  all 
hearers  are  agile  enough  to  do  that,  if  the  position  of 
the  parenthesis  holds  asunder  vital  and  emphatic  frag- 
ments of  the  thought. 

Parenthesis,  again,  may  cause  obscurity  by  its  length. 
It  is  a  digression.  If  it  be  of  excessive  length,  it  may 
impair  the  recollection  of  that  which  went  before,  and 
attention  to  that  which  comes  after.  One  of  the  dif- 
ficulties in  interpreting  the  style  of  St.  Paul  in  his  Epis- 
tle to  the  Ephesians  is  the  abundance  of  parenthetical 
inclosures  of  the  inspired  thought.  Parenthesis  may 
also  obscure  the  sense  by  the  form  of  parenthesis  within 
a  parenthesis.  An  amendment  to  an  amendment,  a 
patch  upon  a  patch,  a  -vheel  within  a  wheel,  are  bewil- 


LEOT.  XI.]  ABUSE   OF   PARENTHESIS.  171 

dering.     Rarely  is  such  an  involuted  style  suited  to  oral 
speech. 

Abuse  of  parenthesis  is  one  cause  of  the  obscurity  of 
German  constructions.  A  German  sentence  is  often  a 
conglomeration,  rather  than  an  arrangement  of  materials 
It  is  voluminous  rather  than  lucid.  One  critic  says  that 
there  are  books  in  German  which  consist  of  one  or  two 
enormous,  overgrown,  plethoric  sentences.  De  Quincey 
criticises  the  German  sentence  as  an  arch  between  the 
rising  and  the  setting  sun.  He  declares  that  a  sentence 
by  Kant  was  once  measured  by  a  carpenter,  and  found 
to  be  a  foot  and  eight  inches  long.  When  not  paren- 
thetic in  form,  a  sentence  may  be  so  in  fact.  A  reader 
of  it  must  make  it  so  in  order  to  deliver  the  sense  well. 
A  multiplication  of  interdependent  yet  loosely  jointed 
clauses  may  have  the  effect  of  the  extreme  abuse  of 
parenthesis.  To  recur  once  more  to  the  most  affluent 
source  of  rhetorical  blunders,  Alison's  History,  I  select 
the  following ;  viz.,  — 

"  Nations,  like  individuals,  were  not  destined  for  im 
mortality."  This  is  the  thought  in  a  nutshell.  Now 
observe  how  he  expands  it.  "  In.  their  virtues  equally 
as  their  vices,  their  grandeur  as  their  weakness,  they 
bear  in  their  bosoms  the  seeds  of  mortality ;  but  in  the 
passions  which  elevate  them  to  greatness,  equally  as 
those  which  hasten  their  decay,  is  to  be  discerned  the 
unceasing  operation  of  those  principles  at  once  of  cor- 
ruption and  resurr-ction,  which  are  combined  in  hu- 
manity, and  which,  universal  in  communities  as  in  single 
men,  compensate  the  necessary  decline  of  nations  by  the 
vital  fire  which  has  given  an  undecaying  youth  to  the 
human  race."  This  passage  has  not  one  mark  of  paren- 
thetic structure  in  punctuation,  and  it  needs  none  ;  but 
its  burden  of  dependent  clauses  with  suspended  sense 


172  ENGLISH   STYLU.  [lect.  il 

has  tlie  dead  weight  of  parenthesis  of  the  most  cumbroua 
form.  The  thought  is  obscure.  Nothing  else  gives  to 
Euglisli  stj'le  such  a  leaden  weight  of  words  as  this 
packing  of  suggested  clauses  into  all  the  interstices  of  £» 
sentence. 

7.  Obscurity  of  construction  may  be  caused  also  by 
that  figure  of  rhetoric  which  is  technically  termed  "  aua- 
coluthon."  Says  Mr.  Webster,  in  his  apostrophe  to 
(len.  Warren,  in  the  first  oration  at  Bunker  Hill,  "  Ah, 
Him  I  How  shall  I  struggle  with  the  emotions  which 
stifle  the  utterance  of  thy  name  ?  "  So  in  the  well-known 
invective  of  Cicero,  in  his  oration  against  Verres :  "It 
is  an  outrage  to  bind  a  Roman  citizen,  etc.  ...  to 
crucify  him  —  what  shall  I  call  it?"  The  idioms  of 
all  languages  permit  this  figure  of  rhetoric  when  the 
sentiment  calls  for  it  and  the  speaker  means  it.  The 
philosophy  of  it  is  clear.  It  implies  a  sudden  overflow 
of  emotion  beyond  the  confines  of  orderly  grammati- 
cal speech.  Eloquence,  in  such  examples,  is  like  the 
torrent  of  the  Mississippi :  it  forces  for  itself  abnor- 
mal channels.  But  let  the  same  license  of  speech  be 
adopted  as  a  grammatical  blunder,  and  it  must  pass  for 
that.  If  no  emotion  compels  its  use,  no  canons  of 
good  taste  tolerate  its  use.  Few  things  are  so  fatal  to 
the  transparency  of  style  as  the  adoption  of  the  impas- 
sioned figures  of  speech  when  nothing  in  the  thought 
demands  them.     Such  a  style  is  oratorical  abortion. 

8.  Finally,  rhetorical  construction  may  be  made  ob- 
scure, or,  if  not  obscure,  not  precise,  by  the  cc  mbination, 
in  one  sentence,  of  materials  irrelevant  to  each  other. 
Proximity  of  thoughts  in  one  sentence  implies  mutual 
relationship.  If  none  exists,  that  instinct  of  good  hear- 
ing which  expects  it  is  balked.  It  looks  for  the  point 
)i  connection,  and  can  not  find  one.     Througli  sheer 


LEOT.  XI.]  niKELEVANT   CONNECTIONS.  173 

misdirection  of  attention,  the  thought  escapes.  Says  a 
reportei,  in  giving  an  account  of  a  case  of  suicide,  "  His 
head  was  supported  by  a  bundle  of  clothing,  but  all 
efforts  to  revive  the  vital  spark  were  fruitless."  This 
is  ludicrously  inconsequent.  But  is  it  more  so  than  the 
following,  from  a  certain  historian  who  shall  be  name- 
less ?  "  Tillotson  was  much  beloved  by  King  William 
and  Queen  Mary,  who  appointed  Dr.  Tennyson  to  suc- 
ceed him."  Were  Tillotson  and  Tennyson  first-cousins? 
If  not,  why  should  the  two  facts  be  recorded  in  the  same 
breath?  A  reade*  instinctively  searches  for  the  latent 
connection. 

Artemus  Ward  burlesques  this  error  by  saying,  "I 
am  an  early  riser,  but  my  wife  is  a  Presbyterian."  A 
passable  jest  is  this  for  Artemus  Ward.  But  is  it  any 
more  inconsequent  than  the  following  ?  "  Their  march 
was  through  an  uncultivated  country,  whose  savage 
inhabitants  fared  hardly,  having  no  other  riches  than  a 
breed  of  lean  sheep,  whose  flesh  was  rank  and  unsavory 
by  reason  of  their  continual  feeding  upon  seafish." 
Here  we  begin  with  the  tramp  of  an  army,  and  end  with 
the  effect  of  a  fish-diet  on  the  quality  of  mutton.  Let 
an  abstract  and  dignified  subject  be  treated  in  the  pul- 
pit in  a  style  composed  of  a  succession  of  such  sentences 
as  these,  and  you  can  easily  imagine  the  effect  on  the 
search  of  a  hearer  after  latent  connections.  Herbert 
Spencer's  theory  of  style  is  so  far  true  as  this,  that  all 
attention  of  the  hearer  which  is  absorbed  in  the  search 
for  relations  which  do  not  exist  is  so  much  abstracted 
from  relations  which  do  exist.  The  result  is  a  waste  of 
both  thought  and  interest.  We  are  never  more  sight- 
less than  when  we  are  looking  at  nothing,  yet  struggling 
to  see  something. 

A  single  remark  is  suggested  by  this  reriew  of  the 


174  ENGLISH   ST^-LE.  [lect.  xi 

causes  of  obscurity  iu  construction.  It  is.  that  the  most 
laborious  and  original  thinkers  have  been  the  mcist  faith- 
ful critics  of  construction.  Profound  thought  finds 
such  study  a  necessity  to  an  expression  of  itself.  John 
Foster  used  to  spend  days  on  one  sentence.  He  wrote, 
rewrote,  enlarged,  contracted,  transposed,  till  he  satis- 
fied his  thought.  He  often  discussed  construction  in 
liis  correspondence  with  literary  friends.  He  pursued 
the  study  of  style  with  an  artist's  enthusiasm.  True, 
that  enthusiasm  was  excessive  :  he  injured  his  style  by 
extreme  elaboration.  Yet  it  is  doubtful  whether  much 
of  his  thinking  could  have  found  expression  otherwise. 
The  more  he  labored  for  exact  expression,  the  more 
thought  he  found  which  was  worth  expression.  To  this 
is  attributable  the  marvelous  richness  of  some  of  his 
essays. 

On  the  contrary,  negligent  critics  of  construction  be- 
come by  that  very  negligence  indolent  thinkers.  The 
habit  soon  grows  of  trying  to  express  none  but  thoughts 
which  can  be  expressed  with  ease.  One's  thinking  tends 
always  to  the  level  of  one's  habit  of  utterance.  First 
thoughts  in  first  forms  become  the  staple  of  such  a 
one's  productions.  That  is  the  very  essence  of  common 
place.  Such  men  in  the  pulpit  decry  elaborate  preach- 
ing, and  are  often  suspiciously  conscientious  in  doing  so. 
It  can  not  be  too  deeply  impressed  on  a  youthful  writer, 
that  style  is  thought.  In  the  long-run,  each  will  be  the 
gauge  of  the  other.  The  study  of  style  is  the  study  of 
thought.  Original  thought  demands  original  style, 
neither  of  which  will  come  unbidden  to  a  dormant  or 
an  indolent  mind. 


LECTURE   XII. 

EXCUKSUS.— THE  INTELLECTUALITY  OF  THE  PULPIT. 

Before  leaving  the  subject  of  perspicuity  of  style,  an 
excursus  suggested  by  it  demands  attention.  It  is  the 
inquiry,  What  principles  should  regulate  the  degree 
of  intellectuality  of  the  pulpit?  This  subject  I  have 
partially  discussed  in  another  volume,  under  the  title  of 
"  Masterly  Preaching."  But  a  pastor  often  encounters 
the  question  in  a  broader  range,  in  which  the  very 
existence  of  the  Calvinistic  ideal  of  the  pulpit  seems  to 
be  called  in  question.  I  designate  it  as  the  Calvinistic 
ideal  of  preaching,  because  it  is  chiefly  in  the  Calvinis- 
tic group  of  denominations  that  the  most  elaborate  type 
of  homiletic  discourse  has  found  place. 

Such  discourse  is  often  both  assailed  and  defended 
on  grounds  which  open  the  question  anew,  and  in  its 
most  general  form.  Other  questions  are  seen  to  be 
vitally  dependent  on  this.  We  can  neither  affirm  nor 
deny  on  those  secondary  topics,  till  we  have  deter- 
mined the  elementary  principles  by  which  the  intellec- 
tual level  of  the  pulpit  shall  be  adjusted.  The  question 
whether  certain  subjects  shall  be  discussed  at  all  in  the 
pulpit,  the  question  of  certain  methods  of  rhetorical 
treatment,  the  question  of  transferring  to  the  puhiit 
certain  lines  of  argument  which  are  indispensable  in 
theological  science,  the  question  of  a  permanent  as 
compared  with  an  itinerant  ministry,  the  questior.  of 

176 


176  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [lect.  xn 

evangelistic  as  related  to  pastoral  preaching,  even  the 
question  of  the  length  of  sermons,  and,  back  of  all 
these,  the  question  what  is  a  Christian  sermon, — all 
hinge  more  or  less  critically  on  the  degree  of  intellec- 
tuality which  is  permissible  cr  necessary  in  the  most 
effective  preaching.  If  there  are  any  principles  tend- 
ing to  a  settlement  of  the  general  question,  a  young 
pastor  needs  to  consider  them,  and  to  do  it  early  in  his 
ministry.  That  is  a  disastrous  mistake,  prolific  of 
regrets  and  self-reproaches,  which  a  youthful  preacher 
makes,  who  tries  to  sustain  his  pulpit  by  a  style  of 
preaching,  which,  intellectually  measured,  is  either 
beyond  his  right,  or  beneath  his  privilege.  Short  pas- 
torates, lamentable  failures,  discouraging  disgusts,  are 
the  result  of  early  blunders  on  this  theme.  They  may 
cast  a  blight  over  one's  whole  ministry.  Let  us,  then, 
endeavor  to  settle  whatever  may  be  settled  by  observ- 
ing the  following  principles :  — 

1.  The  intellectuality  of  the  pulpit  should  be  such, 
that  the  Scriptures  shall  be  made  intelligible  and  real 
to  the  popular  mind.  This  appears  self-evident.  If  the 
Scriptures  are  the  word  of  God,  they  are  designed  for 
the  world  and  for  all  time.  They  must  be  assumed  to 
be  fitt'sd  to  the  average  intelligence  of  the  world,  and 
this  in  all  ages.  It  must  be  assumed,  also,  that  they 
are  adapted  to  the  subject  of  oral  address.  Preaching, 
not  printing,  is  the  cliief  means  of  their  dissemination. 

Yet  the  Bible  is,  as  a  whole,  the  most  profoundl}^ 
thoughtful  book  in  all  literature.  It  is  a  book  of  prin- 
ciples which  run  under  all  histor^^  all  philosophy,  all 
political  and  social  economy.  It  is  a  book  of  difficult 
argumentation.  It  is  a  book  of  occult  analogies  and 
correspondences.  We  characterize  it  as  truthfuU}'  when 
we  pronounce  it  a  book  of  mysteries  as  when  we  laud  its 


LKCT.  xn.]  BIBLICAL   PREACHING.  177 

simplicity.  It  comes  to  us  as  a  revelation  from  Heaven. 
It  professes  to  disclose  to  us  a  segment  of  the  history  of 
the  universe.  No  human  mind,  unaided  by  supernatural 
wisdom,  could  have  framed  such  a  compendium  of  the 
principles  of  God's  government.  It  is  self-evident,  then, 
that  no  pulpit  can  be  a  genuine  representative  of  the 
volume,  which  stands  on  a  low  plane  of  intellectual 
activity.  Fearful  gaps  of  inadequacy  must  exist  in  the 
work  of  such  a  pulpit.  The  most  severe  and  intricate 
labor  ever  undertaken  by  the  mind  of  man  is  that  of 
projecting  such  a  revelation  into  the  mental  and  moral 
history  of  a  race  of  beings  who  are  filled  with  moral 
antipathies  to  its  spirit,  and  doing  this  mainly  by  the 
art  of  oral  speech.  In  the  achievement  of  such  a  work, 
the  purely  intellectual  uplifting  of  mankind  is  the  great 
miracle  of  popular  education.  It  is  in  keeping  with 
such  a  work,  that  no  human  mind  should  ever  have 
originated  it  without  the  help  of  miraculous  inspiration, 
and  that  none  can  expect  success  in  it  without  the  help 
of  divine  illumination. 

Estimated  thus  from  the  intellectual  groundwork  of 
the  Bible,  preaching  must  of  necessity  be  a  supremely 
intellectual  work.  Whatever  else  it  is,  it  must  be  this. 
Genuine  preaching,  viewed  in  the  sum  total  of  one's 
ministry,  can  be  nothing  less ;  and  genuine  hearing  of 
the  gospel  can  be  nothing  less.  It  ought  never  to  be 
a  work  of  mental  luxury,  either  to  preach  or  to  hear  a 
revelation  from  Heaven.  Either  hearing  or  preaching 
which  is  such  a  luxury  is  presumptively  defective. 

2.  The  mtellectual  quality  of  preaching  should  be 
such  as  to  satisfy  the  intellectual  cravings  of  a  Chris- 
Hanized  people.  The  pulpit  must  recognize  the  civil- 
izing power  of  Christianity  over  the  general  mind. 
Certain   results   of  religious   regeneration    are   purely 


178  ENGLISH  STYX,E.  [lkctt.  xn 

intellectual.  Tastes  are  created  by  spiritual  renewal 
which  are  not  at  all  essential  to  salvation.  The  think- 
ing power  of  regenerate  mind  is  put  to  high  service,  and 
fired  by  intense  motives  :  therefore  that  power  is  often 
reduplicated  in  volume.  A  taste  for  thoughtful  dis- 
course, for  logical  discourse,  for  the  proof  of  things, 
for  truth  in  lofty  forms,  and  intricate  combinations, 
and  imaginative  beauty,  —  I  say,  a  taste  for  this  supe- 
rior exercise  of  intellect  is  created  by  the  normal  action 
of  Christianity  upon  a  regenerated  mind.  It  is  purely 
a  craving  of  intellect.  Souls  can  be  saved  on  a  lower 
plane  of  intellectual  culture.  But  God's  method  of 
working  is  to  lift  the  race,  in  the  process  of  redemp- 
tion, up  to  the  highest  plane  of  being  of  which  the  sub- 
jects of  it  are  capable  under  the  conditions  of  probation. 

The  principle  involved  in  this  method  is  illustrated 
in  other  departments  of  divine  procedure.  It  discloses 
itself  in  one  of  the  fundamental  laws  of  physical  well- 
being.  Physical  health  excites  a  craving  for  physical 
exercise.  Strength  in  the  arm  incites  desire  to  use  the 
arm.  The  young  of  all  animals  crave  brisk  motion  for 
its  own  sake.  A  lamb  skips  because  it  can  skip.  An 
antelope  leaps  because  it  can  leap.  Consciousness  of 
power  rouses  the  will  to  use  power.  So,  in  the  moral 
world,  regeneration  elevates  intellectual  power,  and 
with  that,  under  purely  natural  law,  comes  the  desire 
to  put  that  power  to  use  ;  and  hence  arises  a  craving  for 
such  materials  of  thought  as  shall  demand  its  use. 

The  Christian  pulpit  must  recognize  this  law  of  the 
working  of  regenerate  mind.  Natural  cravings  under 
the  elevating  and  refining  power  of  Christianity  must 
be  satisfied.  This  can  not  be  done  without  a  pulpit  of 
broad  intellectual  vision.  Specially  should  it  be  noted 
that  this  demands  a  groAving  and  progressive  pulpit 


LECT.  xii.J  BELIGIOUS   AWAKENDIGS.  179 

From  age  to  age,  from  generation  to  generation,  from 
an  ancient  to  a  modern  phase  of  civilization,  the  pulpit 
must  receive  constant  increments  of  intellectual  force, 
if  it  is  to  meet,  and  utilize  faithfully,  the  natural  fruits 
of  its  own  work.  The  pulpit  of  a  past  age  can  not  be 
in  this  respect  the  model  for  the  pulpit  of  this  age, 
unless  Christian  thought  has  in  the  mean  while  made 
no  progress.  He  would  not  be  a  wise  bishop  now  who 
should  imitate  Archbishop  Tillotson  in  excluding  from 
his  sermons  every  thing  which  his  servant-maid  could 
not  understand.  Homiletic  rules  respecting  simplicity 
and  intellectuality  in  preaching,  which  fitted  the  church 
of  five  centuries  ago,  ought  not,  in  the  natural  course 
of  things,  to  regulate  the  preaching  of  to-day.  The 
presumption  is,  that  those  rules  are  antiquated.  St. 
Paul's  distinction  between  "  milk  "  for  "  babes "  and 
"  meat "  for  "  men  "  is  an  expressed  recognition  of  this 
principle  of  the  civilizing  power  of  Christianity  as 
affecting  the  intellectual  character  of  the  pulpit. 

3.  The  intellectual  quality  of  preaching  should  be 
such  as  to  balance  the  emotional  excitements  which  Chris- 
tian truth  is  fitted  to  produce.  One  of  the  profoundest 
laws  of  our  being,  a  law  the  violation  of  which  is  most 
disastrous  to  the  spiritual  economy,  is  that  of  proportion 
between  emotion  and  thought.  Distortion  ensues,  if 
that  proportion  is  seriously  disturbed.  Christian  truth 
is  fitted  to  awaken  the  most  intense  emotions  of  which 
our  nature  is  susceptible.  It  may  be  so  preached  as 
to  create  admirable  material  for  fanatic  excitements. 
Those  elements  of  our  theology  Avhich  appeal  to  fear 
are  in  their  nature  overwhelming.  Acting  on  minds 
of  a  certain  susceptibility,  those  which  appeal  to  hope 
are  equally  so.  The  supernaturalism  of  Christianity  is 
capable  of  such  abuses  as  to  overpower  reason.     It  cat 


180  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  xn 

be  so  preached,  that  its  natural  effect  shall  be  morbid 
alternation  between  ecstasy  and  despair.  Add  to  its 
natural  forces,  when  thus  unbalanced,  the  auxiliary 
power  of  sympathy  in  great  assemblies,  of  the  expect- 
ant mood  in  listening  to  preachers  of  great  reputation, 
and  of  novelty  in  the  succession  of  religious  stimulants, 
and  the  result  may  be  a  conflagration  of  the  religious 
emotions. 

I  am  unable  to  resist  the  historic  evidence,  that  some 
of  the  evils  attendant  and  consequent  upon  the  "  Great 
Awakening,"  in  the  time  of  President  Edwards,  which 
he  deplored,  and  struggled  in  vain  to  control,  were,  in 
part,  the  fruit  of  the  preaching  of  some  of  his  contem- 
poraries, and  might  have  been  reasonably  anticipated. 
Christian  theology  is  a  system  fitted  in  the  forms  of  oral 
speech  to  command  large  audiences,  and,  under  certain 
conditions,  to  make  them  frantic  with  irrational  feeling. 
Its  very  power  to  produce  the  extreme  of  good  involves 
the  power  to  produce  the  opposite  extreme,  of  evil. 
Tempestuous  preaching  of  half-truths  will  often  set 
the  pulpit  to  rocking  on  the  billows  of  popular  excite- 
ment, and  leave  it  there.  Then  religious  emotions 
degenerate  into  religious  passions ;  and,  among  an  un- 
cultured people,  religious  passions  and  animal  passions 
lie  in  close  affinit3\  Such  is  the  testimony  of  expe- 
rience. 

The  natural  command  of  Christian  truth  over  our 
emotive  nature  furnishes  a  principle,  therefore,  by  which 
to  gauge  the  degree  of  intellectuality  in  preaching.  The 
natural  counterpoise  to  emotion  is  thought.  The  natu- 
ral balance  to  the  working  of  stimulated  and  compli- 
cated feeling  is  an  accumulated  and  quickened  force 
of  the  thinking  power.  Aside  altogether  from  the  mate- 
rial of  thought,  the  thinking  process  is  a  conservative 


LECT.  xn.]     THOUGHT   PKOPOETIONED   TO   FEELING.      181 

process.  It  tends  to  keep  the  emotions  in  equilibrium. 
In  a  moment  of  sudden  and  passionate  impetuosity  of 
feeling,  a  self-poised  mind  instinctively  says,  "Let  me 
think."  The  same  is  the  instinct,  in  a  large  assembly, 
of  that  which  we  term  the  common  sense.  What  is 
common  sense  ?  It  is  the  collective  mind  in  equipose. 
A  speaker  who  would  control,  and  bend  to  use,  a  state 
of  paroxysmal  emotion  in  a  great  audience,  urges  them 
to  "  stop  and  think."  A  crowd  in  a  panic  is  saved,  if 
one  of  nature's  leaders  is  at  hand,  who  can  induce  them 
to  stand  still,  and  give  the  common  sense  a  chance  to 
be  heard  in  calm  thinking.  Gen.  Garfield  in  New  York, 
on  the  day  of  the  assassination  of  President  Lincoln, 
stilled  the  rage  of  the  surging  populace  by  uttering  a 
great  biblical  truth,  the  very  words  of  which  subdued 
passion  into  thought :  "  Clouds  and  darkness  are  round 
about  him."     It  was  the  still  voice  of  God. 

This,  then,  is  a  regulative  principle  to  the  intellectu- 
ality of  preaching.  Proportion  it  always  to  the  existing 
state  of  emotional  excitement.  The  more  successfully 
the  pulpit  produces  its  normal  effect  upon  the  sensibili- 
ties of  hearers,  the  more  heavily  should  it  tax  their 
thinking  power.  In  practice  this  principle  will  work  in 
two  ways.  On  the  one  hand,  it  will  forbid  merely 
stimulative  appliances  to  an  audience  which  is  already 
tremulous  with  excitement ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  it 
will  forbid  as  imperatively  the  accumulation  of  merely 
intellectual  appliances  upon  an  audience  which  is  spir- 
itually dying  under  its  own  somnolence. 

If  the  Calvinistic  pulpit  has  committed  any  radical 
erroi  in  development  of  its  theory  of  preaching,  it  has 
been  that  of  contenting  itself  with  athletic  intellectual 
force  in  times  of  spiritual  decline.  When  tlie  heart  of 
a  church  has  fallen  asleep,  and  the  ingathering  of  a 


182  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  xu. 

youthful  constituency  has  well-nigh  ceased,  the  phenom- 
enon has  been  sometimes  witnessed,  of  a  ministry  strain- 
ing itself  to  the  utmost  in  defense  and  in  development 
of  speculative  othodoxy,  perhaps  in  hot  controversy 
with  skepticism,  with  no  alarms  and  no  pains  at  the 
spectacle  of  a  slumbering  church  and  a  dj'ing  world. 
That  is  war  upon  the  fitness  of  things.  It  is  labor 
against  the  natural  conditions  of  success.  Preaching 
on  the  Westminster  Catechism  to  an  audience  in  which 
the  gray  heads  are  unnaturally  numerous  is  ominous  of 
evil.  A  mass  of  spiritually  torpid  mind  ought  not  to 
be  crowded  with  the  most  ponderous  intellectual  weights 
from  the  pulpit  above.  Such  mind  needs  first  the  awa- 
kening of  its  emotive  nature.  That  is  best  achieved  by 
the  zealous  preaching  of  a  few  simple  facts  of  biblical 
truth.  Men  in  that  condition  do  not  need  an  intellectual 
uplifting.  They  need  rather  to  be  made  to  feel  the 
truths  they  know.  A  zealous  rather  than  a  profound 
pulpit  is  the  need  of  the  hour. 

On  the  other  hand,  a  mass  of  spiritually  live  mind 
should  not  be  crowded  by  excessive  hortation  from  the 
pulpit.  Such  mind  needs  the  more  profound  and  in- 
tricate truths  of  Christianity.  The  most  simple,  direct, 
emotional  preaching  should  be  in  times  of  spiritual 
decline  or  of  stationary  experience ;  the  most  elaborate 
preaching,  with  only  possible  exceptions,  in  times  of 
religious  awakening.  If  men  are  trembling  with  pas- 
sionate excitement,  set  them  to  thinking.  Give  them 
sermons  which  they  can  not  understand  without  think- 
ing. But  if  men  are  surfeited  with  religious  knowl- 
edge, strong  in  religious  beliefs,  and  are  living  calmly 
on  an  inherited  faith,  luxuriating  in  a  history  of  Chris- 
tian culture,  then  probe  their  sensibilities.  Preach  to 
them   incisive   and   trenchant    sermons.     Preach   that 


LBCT.  xn.]  INSPIRED   EXAMPLES.  183 

which  tliey  can  not  listen  to  with  calm  intelh  ctiial 
assent,  and  no  more.  So  preach,  that  heart  shall  quicken 
heart.     Give  them  truth  under  a  baptism  of  fire. 

Look,  for  illustration,  at  the  contrast  between  the 
prophetic  and  the  apostolic  ideals  of  preaching.  The 
prophets  lived  chiefly  in  decadent  periods  of  the  Jew- 
ish Church.  They  were,  for  the  most  part,  reformers : 
therefore  their  preaching  was  very  simple,  not  original, 
largely  hortatory.  A  prophetic  discourse  was  often  one 
unbroken  roll  of  thundering  denunciation  :  it  was  filled 
with  impassioned  apostrophe  and  commination.  The 
apostles,  on  the  contrary,  lived  in  a  time  of  religious 
awakening.  They  ministered  to  a  pentecostal  age. 
They  addressed  the  church  when  "first  called  Christian," 
in  the  fervor  of  its  ardent  infancy.  Spiritual  life  was 
young,  buoyant,  jubilant,  and,  if  need  were,  heroic: 
therefore  their  preaching  was  largely  upon  the  most 
profound  and  difficult  truths  of  a  new  religion.  Then 
was  the  time  chosen  for  laying  the  foundations  of  that 
which  time  developed  into  the  most  elaborate  system  of 
theology  the  world  has  known.  It  was  one  which  has 
given  character  to  the  most,  splendid  literatures  and 
philosophies  in  history. 

The  theory  here  illustrated  is  confirmed  by  the  fact, 
that,  in  all  subsequent  periods,  the  preaching  which  has 
swayed  the  most  powerful  awakenings  of  the  church  to 
new  forms  of  religious  life,  which  has  probed  the  sensi- 
bilities of  men  most  profoundly,  yet  has  kept  them  most 
true  to  the  ideal  of  a  divine  life,  and  most  free  from 
crotchets  in  belief  and  from  fanatical  eccentricities,  has 
been  of  the  apostolic  type.  It  has  been  rich  in  intel- 
lectual resources,  doctrinal,  argumentative,  original.  It 
has  been  preaching  which  required  thinking  in  the  deliv- 
ery and  in  the  hearing. 


184  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [tECT.  xn. 

The  principle,  then,  is  apt  to  all  times :  proportion  the 
intellectual  quality  of  preaching  to  the  state  of  emo- 
tional excitement,  and  you  can  not  fail  to  meet,  in  thia 
respect,  the  wants  of  all  varieties  of  spiritual  condition. 
Test  the  principle  by  your  own  observation  of  the  spir- 
itual history  of  churches  and  communities.  Do  you  not 
sometimes  see  a  state  of  spiritual  deadness  prolonged 
and  deepened  by  an  excess  of  intellectual  elaboration 
in  the  pulpit?  Do  you  not  as  frequently  see  a  revival 
of  religion  diluted  and  finally  checked,  if  not  perverted 
into  fanatic  vagaries,  by  an  excess  of  unthoughtful  hor- 
tation  in  the  pulpit  ?  When  the  Infinite  Mind  is  in  spe- 
cial converse  with  the  minds  of  men,  then  is  the  time 
when  both  preacher  and  hearer  need  to  summon  into 
service  their  best  intellectual  resources.  Days  of  Pente- 
cost demand  "  great  sermons." 

4.  The  intellectual  character  of  preaching  should  be 
such  as  to  assist  the  tendency  of  popular  thought  to  sys- 
tematize Christian  truth.  The  fact  is  often  overlooked 
in  our  study  of  the  conditions  of  success  in  preaching, 
that  the  human  mind  craves  system  in  its  faith  respect- 
ing any  thing  which  profoundly  concerns  it.  Any  thing 
which  men  care  enough  about  to  make  it  the  subject  of 
a  settled  faith,  they  crave  in  the  forms  of  systematic 
faith.  In  India,  where  the  transmigration  of  souls  is  a 
cardinal  doctrine  of  religion,  the  treatment  of  animals 
IS  reduced  to  a  most  elaborate  and  reticulated  system. 
Under  the  Mosaic  institutions,  personal  cleanliness  had 
a  profound  symbolic  meaning.  Therefore  ablutions  of 
the  body  were  systematized  as  a  part  of  Jewish  theology. 
Beginning  in  fragmentary  belief,  any  popular  religion 
tends  always  to  work  out  for  itself  a  system.  It  craves 
self-consistency.  It  builds  on  logic.  It  reaches  after 
truth  in  link  with  truth.     All  prolonged  and   earnest 


LECT.  xn.]  SYSTEMATIC  FAITH.  185 

thinking  on  religious  themes  drifts  towards  this  con- 
cinnity  of  structure.  Fluid  at  first,  the  popular  faith  is 
sure  to  crystallize. 

This  craving  for  system  is  no  peculiarity  of  educated 
minds.  Illiterate  minds,  as  well,  feel  the  pulsations  of 
it,  whether  they  succeed  or  not  in  the  eye  of  tlieologic 
science  in  producing  a  rounded  theologic  mechanism. 
They  will  struggle  after  something  which  they  believe 
to  be  in  a  measure  rounded  and  equipoised.  The  popu- 
lar mind  is  restless  till  it  finds  something  which  satis- 
fies this  innate  longing  for  a  constructed  faith.  Little 
as  the  people  read  systems  of  divinity,  every  spiritually 
quickened  mind  is  naturally  a  builder  of  systematic  the- 
ology. All  men  make  systems  if  they  care  enough 
about  religious  truth  to  believe  any  thing  in  earnest. 
Men  who  think  to  a  purpose  do  not  think  in  dreams. 

This  is  a  condition  of  the  popular  mind  which  the 
pulpit  ought  to  meet,  and  to  which  it  ought  to  render 
an  effective  aid.  The  natural  helpers  of  the  people  in 
the  work  of  systematizing  their  religious  knowledge  are 
the  pastoral  clergy.  Yet  that  is  a  work  which  the  clergy 
can  not  do  without  a  lofty  ideal  of  intellectual  preach- 
ing. Every  pastor  of  long  service  among  one  people 
should  preach  in  substance  a  theological  system.  To  do 
it,  he  must  rise  above  the  humbler  range  of  homiletic 
effort.  Like  St.  Paul,  he  must  preach  things  "  hard  to 
be  understood."  Like  the  apostle  at  Troas,  he  must 
sometimes  be  "  long  preaching,"  even  to  the  discomfort 
of  some  sleepy  hearers  like  Eutychus.  He  must  deliver 
many  sermons,  modeled  rather  on  the  Epistle  to  the 
Romans  than  on  the  Hebrew  Psalmody  or  the  Christian 
Beatitudes.  Is  not  this  an  obvious  half-truth  by  which 
a  preacher's  straining  to  simplify  his  pulpit  needs  to  ba 
qualified  ? 


186  ENGLISH  STILE.  [lect.  xn 

5.  The  intellectuality  of  preaching  should  preser've  a 
certain  equality  with  the  intellectual  awakening  of  the 
age.  Not  only  is  "  milk  "  fitted  to  "  babes,"  and  "  meat " 
to  "  men  "  individually.  There  are  also  infantile  agea 
and  virile  ages.  The  preaching  of  the  middle  ages,  when 
few  but  clergymen,  and  only  a  minority  of  them,  could 
read  and  write,  must  have  been  a  very  different  thing 
from  the  preaching  which  prevailed  at  the  date  of  the 
revival  of  letters.  A  general  quickening  of  mind  can 
not  but  have  authority  in  giving  intellectual  character 
to  any  institution  which  assumes  to  be  a  guide  to  popu- 
lar thought.  We  utter  a  truism  in  saying  that  it  will 
never  do  for  the  pulpit  to  fall  behind  the  times  in  intel- 
lectual force.  Rather  should  it  lead  the  times  in  reli- 
gious inquiry.  And  its  right  to  lead  depends  on  its 
power  to  lead.  In  matters  in  which  the  popular  mind 
needs  leadership,  might  is  right.  An  imbecile  right  to 
leadership  is  a  contradiction. 

The  bearing  of  this  principle  upon  the  pulpit  of  our 
own  age  is  obvious.  Ours  is  beyond  all  precedent  an 
age  of  intellectual  awakening.  The  revival  of  letters 
from  the  fourteenth  to  the  sixteenth  centuries  was  in- 
fantile, in  the  comparison,  with  the  general  uplifting  of 
the  human  mind  in  all  the  great  nations  of  our  times. 
Ours  is  not  an  age  of  faith.  Indeed,  a  general  awaken- 
ing of  national  minds  never  took  place  before.  Intel- 
lectual quickenings  of  former  times  were  restricted  to 
select  classes.  The  Elizabethan  age  in  English  letters 
left  the  masses  of  the  English  people  where  it  found 
them,  —  immersed  in  ignorance  and  brutality.  The 
creation  of  such  a  mind  as  Shakspeare  made  less  im- 
pression on  the  popular  tastes  than  a  bear-baiting  at 
Smithfield.  The  idea  of  a  popular  education  and  a 
popular  literature  is  of  recent  origin  ;  and  this  for  tho 


LECT.  XII.]  POPULAR   INDEPENDENCE.  187 

very  good  reason  that  a  reading  populace  or  a  reading 
peasantry  is  of  recent  origin. 

The  fact  is  a  vital  one  also  to  the  pulpit,  that  popular 
religious  inquiry  does  not  keep  itself  on  a  level  with 
popular  faith.  Ours  is  an  age  of  inquiry  rather  as  the 
antagonist  of  faith  than  its  auxiliary.  It  is  not  an  age 
of  still  and  reverent  receptivity  towards  the  pulpit,  or 
any  other  oracle  of  belief.  The  popular  attitude  to 
wards  all  oracular  teaching  is  that  of  an  independence 
which  leans  over  hard  upon  defiance.  "  Who  are  you  ? 
Are  not  we  the  people  ? "  is  the  salutation  which  the 
popular  mind  now  gives  to  anybody  who  assumes  to 
instruct  and  direct  it.  Inquiry  asserts  itself  as  a  pro- 
test against  beliefs  obsolete  and  obsolescent.  Any  man 
who  now  assumes  to  be  a  leader  of  men  works  over  a 
furnace  in  which  the  elements  melt  with  fervent  heat. 
Elements  antagonistic  and  explosive  lie  in  perilous 
proximity. 

The  pulpit  of  such  an  age  must  clearly  be  an  intel- 
lectual power,  or  nothing.  What  precisely  do  we  mean 
by  this?  Not  that  the  pulpit  must  preach  science, 
philosophy,  politics,  reform,  —  the  things  about  which 
the  age  is  so  wide-awake  and  so  polemic ;  but  in  its 
own  proper  sphere,  as  an  institution  of  religion,  it  must 
be  sympathetic  with  the  popular  awakening.  It  must 
be,  and  be  seen  to  be,  the  peer  of  other  intellectual 
forces  of  the  age.  That  is  an  ominous  state  of  things 
in  which  the  other  liberal  professions  fall  out  of  sym- 
pathy with  the  clergy  as  an  order  of  cultivated  men. 
That  is  a  capital  error  in  which  the  province  of  the 
pulpit  is  restricted  even  to  the  middle  strata  of  society. 
The  pulpit  should  know  no  such  thing  as  social  stratum. 
If  none  should  be  deemed  too  low  for  its  teaching,  none 
should  be  deemed  too  high.     In  its  proper  sphere  it 


188  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [lect.  xii 

should  be  an  authority  to  all.  On  this  lofty  table-land 
it  must  stand  in  the  popular  esteem,  or  nowhere.  Men 
will  not  sustain  it  as  an  historic  monument  commemora- 
tive of  the  beliefs  of  the  past.  As  such,  its  claim  to 
authority  will  be  scouted  as  an  impertinence. 

On  a  moderate  scale,  but  a  very  significant  one,  we 
have  an  illustration  of  this  in  the  decline  of  the  plat- 
form among  us  as  a  means  of  religious  instruction  and 
inspiration.  Time  was,  when  the  anniversaries  of  the 
great  organizations  which  the  American  church  has 
made  the  almoners  of  her  charities  were  to  the  religious 
public  what  the  week  of  the  Passover  was  to  the  ancient 
Hebrews.  Some  of  us  have  seen  a  crowd  of  a  thousand 
and  more  people  standing  in  the  street  for  an  hour  at 
twilight,  waiting  for  the  doors  to  open  for  a  meeting  of 
the  American  Tract  Society.  The  magnates  of  the 
church  deemed  themselves  honored  by  an  invitation  to 
speak  upon  its  platform.  Now  the  entire  audiences  of 
four  or  five  such  societies  in  one  metropolitan  center 
scarcely  exceed  a  thousand ;  and  the  American  Tract 
Society  —  what  is  it,  and  where  ?  I  mean  no  disparage- 
ment of  that  venerable  institution.  It  is  doing  its 
ancient  work,  perhaps,  more  efficiently  than  ever.  But, 
in  respect  to  this  point  of  the  influence  of  the  religious 
platform,  it  participates  in  the  common  decadence.  The 
eloquence  of  the  platform  in  that  sort  of  service  is  obso- 
lescent. The  pulpit  will  slide  down  the  same  plane  if 
it  suffers  itself  to  fall  below  the  general  level  of  the  age 
in  intellectual  force.  Its  downward  momentum  will  be 
all  the  more  rapid  for  the  weight  of  historic  prestige 
which  it  carries.  Napoleon  judged  men  shrewdly  when 
he  said,  that,  in  the  long-run,  the  world  is  ruled  by  the 
preponderance  of  intellectual  being,  —  so  much  intellect, 
so  mucl"  power.     Nothing  in  the  divine  methods  of  pro« 


LKCT.  XII.]  PEEACHmG   AND   INFIDELITY.  189 

cedure  exempts  religious  institutions  from  the  operation 
of  this  law. 

6.  The  pulpit  should  be  so  administered  in  respect  to 
intellectual  ability  as  to  command  the  popular  confidence 
in  it  as  the  superior  of  infidelity.  What  does  this  require 
of  the  pastoral  clergy?  Not  that  they  should  inces- 
santly fling  the  gage  of  battle  to  infidelity  on  the  Lord's 
Day.     But  in  place  of  that  two  things  are  essential. 

One  is,  that,  whenever  a  preacher  does  attempt  to  con- 
trovert skepticism,  he  should  do  it  in  a  masterly  way. 
He  must  be,  and  be  seen  to  be,  at  home  in  handling  its 
strong  points  and  its  latest  forms  of  argument.  He 
must  speak  as  one  who  has  lived  through  the  fascina- 
tions of  a  suspense  of  faith.  On  rare  occasions  he 
should  so  preach  on  the  strong  points  of  infidelity  as  to 
make  the  impression  that  he  knows  them  by  heart,  and 
a  great  deal  more.  A  thorough-bred  preacher  can  pre- 
sent a  more  imposing  array  of  argument  against  his  own 
faith  than  skepticism  ever  dreamed.  From  that  under- 
ground of  a  faith  below  faith,  he  should  seem  to  be  able 
to  toss  up  the  batteries  of  infidelity  to  the  sky.  He 
should  make  the  impression  that  beneath  his  own 
silence  there  is  nothing  that  he  fears. 

Yet  it  is  a  truism,  that  no  preacher  can  make  this  im- 
pression without  being  the  master  which  he  assumes  to 
be,  nor  without  putting  robust  intellectual  power  into 
his  sermons.  Modern  infidelity  is  an  intellectual  giant 
in  comparison  with  any  thing  in  the  infidel  records  of 
the  past.  It  is  to  the  infidelity  of  history,  in  many 
respects,  what  the  Copernican  is  to  the  Ptolemaic  as 
tronomy.  It  is  learned  in  resources,  shrewd  in  tactics, 
well  informed  in  the  Christian  argument,  vigilant  of 
its  weak  points,  self-possessed  in  assurance,  and,  withal, 
morally    earnest  in  spirit.     It  seeks,  and  not  without 


190  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lwtt.  xh 

fascinating  reasons,  to  establish  the  ethi  cs  of  the  Bible 
without  the  God  of  the  Bible.  He  must  be  a  citizen  of 
no  mean  city  who  shall  cope  successfully  with  such  a 
foe.  It  is  time  for  the  pulpit  to  cease  confounding  infi- 
delity with  depravity.  We  should  have  done  with  the 
stories  of  infidel  death-beds.  For  the  purpose  for  which 
they  are  commonly  used,  all  pith  has  been  taken  out  of 
them  by  the  testimony  of  intelligent  physicians.  As 
argument  for  one  thing  or  another,  they  go  for  nothing. 
And  an  argument  which  goes  for  nothing  goes  for  less 
than  nothing ;  it  is  a  reason  for  the  contrary. 

The  other  thing  needed  in  the  equipment  of  the  pul- 
pit for  its  encounter  with  infidelity,  is,  that  the  average 
of  preaching  on  other  subjects  should  be  of  such  intel- 
lectual force  as  to  suggest  the  ability  of  the  preacher 
to  cope  with  infidelity  if  summoned  to  the  front.  The 
credit  of  the  pulpit  with  the  people  depends  largely  on 
their  faith  in  what  it  can  do.  In  the  majority  of  con- 
gregations there  are  no  infidels.  Men  abandon  public 
worship  before  they  surrender  their  inherited  beliefs, 
A  preacher,  therefore,  may  not  in  half  a  lifetime  be 
driven  by  the  necessities  of  his  people  to  challenge 
infidelity  to  the  battle  directly.  But  by  indirection 
he  needs  to  gain  the  prestige  of  ability  to  do  it.  That 
prestige  he  must  gain  from  the  average  of  intellectual 
force,  of  learning,  and  of  logical  integrity,  which  be- 
comes visible  in  his  ordinary  sermons.  A  sermon  to 
children  may  give  hints  of  ability  to  instruct  philoso- 
phers. An  exposition  of  the  Lord's  Prayer  to  a  Bible- 
class  may  furnish  suggestions  of  learning  sufficient  to 
interpret  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis  to  a  company  of 
geologists.  Though  uttering  never  a  word  in  direct 
assault  upon  infidel  error,  a  preacher  may  legitimately 
create  in  bis  hearers  the  conviction  that  he  is  a  man 


r.ECT   xu.]  PROTECTION   OF   THE  PULPIT.  191 

whom  infidels  will  wisely  let  alone.  The  battle  is  more 
than  half  gained  in  the  hands  of  a  chief  who  obviously 
can  gain  it.  We  do  not  need  to  witness  the  rush  of 
the  combatants,  and  hear  the  blare  of  trumpets  and  the 
clash  of  arms,  if  we  can  see  where  the  strongest  bat- 
talions are.  The  pulpit  needs  this  Napoleonic  mastery 
of  the  situation. 

7.  The  intellectual  dignity  of  the  pulpit  should  be 
such  as  to  enable  it  to  dispense  with  all  varieties  of  protec- 
tive authority.  The  spirit  of  our  times  is  indubitable  in 
its  drift  towards  the  exclusion  of  the  clergy  from  every 
form  of  protection  not  inherent  in  their  own  character 
as  men  and  their  ability  as  leaders  of  men.  Never 
before  was  the  right  of  leadership  thrown  back  so  abso- 
lutely upon  the  power  of  leadership  as  now.  He  will 
lead  who  can  lead ;  no  other.  Not  only  are  the  bald 
forms  of  union  between  Church  and  State  obsolete 
among  us,  but  those  social  usages,  and  the  silent  defer- 
ence which  that  union  gave  birth  to,  and  which  once 
gave  to  the  clerical  profession  a  prestige  not  awarded  to 
kindred  orders,  are  obsolescent.  The  pendulum  now 
swings  to  the  opposite  extreme.  Often  a  preacher  does 
not  receive  the  deference  to  which,  as  a  cultured  man, 
he  is  fairly  entitled.  Dr.  Chalmers,  on  certain  occa- 
sions, concealed  the  badge  of  his  profession. 

The  last  thirty  years  have  witnessed  a  silent  change 
in  one  point  of  clerical  prerogative,  which,  though  not 
of  vital  moment  in  itself,  is  still  a  very  bright  straw, 
significant  of  the  popular  drift.  I  refer  to  the  fact  that 
the  clerical  guild  is  no  longer  the  recognized  sponsor 
for  its  own  membership.  The  time  was,  and  not  long 
ago,  when  the  choice  of  pastors  to  vacant  pulpits  was 
largely  determined  by  clerical  advice.  Rarely  does  any 
important  church  submit  its  action  to  such  counsel  now. 


192  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  xu 

The  democratic  spirit  of  the  Congregational  polity  is  in 
this  respect  pervading  —  shall  we  say  infecting  —  the 
usages  of  more  conservative  sects.  A  Presbyterian 
synod,  a  Reformed  classis,  an  Episcopal  bishop,  have 
not  now  the  prerogative  they  once  had  to  give  to  a 
clergyman  rank  and  employment  in  the  pulpit.  Even 
the  Methodist  bench  of  bishops,  whose  word  theoreti- 
cally assigns  to  every  ecclesiastical  inferior  his  place  of 
service  among  a  silent  and  acquiescent  flock,  find  their 
authority  often  overruled  by  democratic  hints,  which 
they  judge  it  not  conducive  to  the  welfare  of  the  church 
to  ignore. 

This  change  has  an  unmistakable  meaning.  It  is  that 
the  pulpit  is  cut  loose  from  any  and  every  adventitious 
support.  It  must  stand  on  its  own  bottom.  The  preach- 
ing power  of  the  land  must  pass  for  what  it  is.  Its  pres- 
tige with  the  people  is  just  what  itself  creates.  If  it  is 
never  less,  it  certainly  is  never  more.  Under  such  con- 
ditions, no  pulpit  can  stand  which  does  not  deserve  to 
stand.  None  can  stand  which  has  not  such  breadth  and 
weight  of  intellectual  resources  as  to  command  the 
respect  of  a  wakeful  and  thoughtful  age.  The  pulpit 
must  come  under  the  same  complications  which  test  the 
strength  of  other  professions.  Humanly  speaking,  it 
must  take  its  chances.  Think  what  we  may  of  it,  this 
is  one  of  the  fixed  conditions  of  success  in  the  pulpit  of 
the  future.  Wise  men  will  accept  it  without  revolt. 
Strong  men  will  face  it  without  alarm.  The  men  who 
can  face  it  are  the  men  whom  the  world  wants.  They 
are  the  men  to  whom  it  will  render  that  obeisance, 
which,  in  the  long-run,  the  inferior  must  for  ever  pay  to 
the  superior  mind.  The  thing  which  ought  to  be  will 
be. 

8.  The  intellectual  quality  of  the  pulpit  should  be 


tECT.  xn.]     ALLIANCE   WITH  THE   HOLY   GHOST,  193 

sucli  as  to  be  in  close  affinity  with  the  intellectual  dig- 
nity  of  the  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  the  salvation  of 
men.  A  chill  of  repulsion  may  be  felt  momentarily 
from  the  thought  that  the  Spirit  of  God  is  careful  for 
degrees  of  intellect  in  his  service.  Has  he  not  chosen 
weak  things  to  confound  the  mighty?  Has  he  not 
0  -dained  that  foolish  things  shall  confound  the  wise  ? 
1 1  the  working  of  an  Infinite  Mind,  where  is  the  wis- 
dom of  this  world  ?  True ;  but  here  we  have  to  deal 
with  balanced  elements.  We  destroy  an  equipose  which 
God  never  disturbs,  if  we  put  asunder  the  simplicity 
and  the  grandeur  of  God's  word.  Its  transparency  and 
its  mystery  should  be  held  with  even  hand. 

The  fact  vital  to  the  present  purpose  is,  that  the  work 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  without  which  the  pulpit  is  but 
sounding  brass,  is  a  work  which  deals  with  spiritual 
immensities.  It  is  a  work  of  Spirit  upon  spirit.  An 
eternal  Spirit  broods  over  an  immortal  spirit.  It  has  to 
do  with  the  most  profound  and  unfathomable  principles 
of  which  the  human  mind  can  conceive.  Regarded 
solely  in  their  intellectual  reach,  as  thoughts  which 
the  mind  of  man  must  grasp,  and  hold  close  in  faith, 
thsy  are  truths  which  impose  silence  on  the  awestruck 
listener. 

Observe  this  as  illustrated  in  that  revolutionary 
change  which  takes  place  in  spiritual  conversion.  The 
subject  of  such  a  transformation  comes  into  possession 
of  great  thoughts.  They  are  profoundly  disciplinary 
and  creative  in  their  re-action  upon  mental  faculty. 
They  often  seem  to  the  believer  to  open  an  unexplored 
world.  Astronomers,  measuring  the  orbits  of  the  stars, 
and  laboring  to  express,  in  numbers  whose  very  magni- 
tude makes  them  insignificant,  the  speed  with  which 
light  travels,  do  not  have  to  deal  with  thought  so  Of  pres 


194  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  xii 

eive  in  its  grandeur  to  the  human  intellect  as  are  those 
elemental  ideas  which  a  human  being  revolves  in  that 
hour  of  suspended  destiny  in  which  he  asks  and  answers 
the  question,  "  What  must  I  do  to  be  saved  ?  " 

A  philosopher  and  a  child  alike  must  ask  and  answer 
the  great  inquiry.  Each  one  must  ask  and  answer  it  in 
his  own  moral  solitude.  There  is  a  converse  with  God 
in  the  process,  which  calls  a!ter  it  communion  with  all 
other  infinite  and  eternal  things. 

Let  us  pursue  a  little  farther  this  line  of  suggestion 
by  observing  the  working  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  the 
religious  quickening  of  elect  nations  and  races.  There 
we  discern  on  an  imperial  scale  the  same  creation  of 
great  thoughts,  and  arousing  of  thinking  power.  Great 
religious  awakenings  and  reformations  set  in  motion 
upheavals  of  national  minds,  and  put  them  upon  the 
track  of  intellectual  discovery.  Long-buried  truths  are 
exhumed.  Lost  arts  are  rediscovered.  Occult  principles 
of  immeasurable  reach  leap  into  the  light.  New  ideas 
which  wise  men  have  labored  for  come  suddenly  into 
the  possession  of  the  common  mind.  Thinkers  wide 
apart  in  point  of  locality  give  utterance  to  them  simultar 
neously.  The  very  air  seems  full  of  revelations.  Great 
men  are  created  in  resplendent  clusters.  The  hearts  of 
nations  throb  with  the  lifeblood  set  in  motion  by  new 
ideas.  Races  elected  to  great  deeds  come  to  the  front, 
and  take  the  lead  of  the  world.  Then  follows  a  golden 
age.  Such  phenomena  attended  and  succeeded  the 
awakening  of  Europe  at  the  epoch  of  tlie  Reformation. 
Thoughtful  men  looked  on  in  awestruck  silence  at  the 
wonder-working  of  God. 

When  the  Holy  Spirit  thus  wakens  nations  from  the 
sleep  of  centuries,  he  employs,  with  other  instrumentali- 
ties, tliat  of  the   Christian  pulpit.     Among  the  great 


^CT.  xu.J  WASTE   IN   DOING   GOOD  195 

powers  which  thus  upheave  the  world  are  found  great 
preachers.  The  thoughts  which  then  regenerate  the 
nations  are  chiefly  religious  tho.ights.  Any  preacher 
called  of  God  to  the  work  of  such  a  period  steps  into 
an  arena  crowded  to  overflowing  with  quickened  intel- 
lect. He  is  the  herald  of  the  great  truths  which  agitate 
men's  souls.  He  handles  the  great  discoveries  in  which 
men  feel  God's  nearness.  The  resultant  truth,  there- 
fore, to  which  these  reflections  tend,  is,  that,  in  such  alli- 
ance with  God,  a  preacher  has  no  right  to  do  a  weak  or 
a  little  thing.  He  has  no  right  to  degrade  such  truths 
by  his  methods  of  speech.  He  has  no  right  to  give  to 
them  the  driveling  of  an  indolent  mind.  On  such  a 
theme,  for  instance,  as  that  of  the  incarnation,  it  is 
an  impertinence  and  an  irreverence  to  preach  a  feeble 
sermon.  Better  silence  on  such  a  subject  than  incom- 
petence. There  is  a  certain  dignity  of  mental  process 
below  which  the  pulpit  ought  never  to  fall,  because  of 
its  alliance  with  the  working  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  The 
abortions  of  sensational  preaching,  the  conceits  of 
clerical  mountebanks,  the  doggerel  ditties  by  which  the 
old  songs  of  the  church  are  parodied,  the  flummery 
of  "salvation  armies,"  and  the  pettiness  of  churchly 
usages  which  subordinate  the  pulpit  to  the  altar,  — 
these  are  all  degrading  to  the  sacred  alliance  of  man 
with  God.  The  incongruities  involved  in  them  are 
profane. 

It  matters  little  to  the  purpose  that  some  good  is 
done,  or  appears  to  be  done,  by  these  degradations. 
We  are  often  quite  too  lerieut  and  short-sighted  in  our 
judgment  of  wasteful  Ways  of  doing  a  little  good. 
Often  we  are  specially  oblivious  of  the  huge  offset  to 
the  little  good  by  immense  and  silent  damage.  To  an 
aeronaut  falling  from  a  balloon  in  raid-air,  the  suspension 


196  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  xn 

of  the  law  of  gravitation  would  do  some  good.  In  a 
raging  conflagration,  the  elimination  of  fire  from  the 
elements  of  nature  would  do  some  good.  In  a  wrec  k 
at  sea,  the  sinking  of  the  Atlantic  into  the  bowels  of  the 
earth  would  do  some  good.  Yet  Nature  is  not,  therefore, 
short-sigrhted  in  her  wisdom.  Gravitation  dashes  the 
aeronaut  to  the  earth,  fire  burns  up  cities,  and  wrecks 
are  swallowed  in  the  ocean,  as  aforetime.  The  same 
fixedness  of  law  sways  the  moral  world.  There  are 
principles  governing  the  usefulness  of  preaching  which 
lie  deep  in  the  constitution  of  things.  Chaos  begins 
again  if  they  are  violated.  There  are  fitnesses  of  things 
to  things,  congruities  between  antecedents  and  se- 
quences, which  can  not  be  ignored  in  the  policy  of  the 
pulpit,  without  collisions  and  convulsions  in  the  long- 
run,  and  destruction  at  the  last.  Evil  always  outruns 
good  when  evil  is  done  for  the  sake  of  the  good.  One 
of  these  underlying  principles  which  have  the  fixedness 
of  laws  in  the  usefulness  of  the  pulpit  is  that  of  the 
congruity  of  its  work  in  respect  of  intellectual  dignity 
with  the  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost  whose  decrees  it 
executes.  Like  must  minister  with  like,  or  there  is 
no  ministry  but  catastrophe  and  ruin.  No  really  great 
work  for  eternity  is  ever  done  in  this  world  which  is 
not  reverent  work.  When  God  sends  a  prophet  to  the 
nations,  he  does  not  come  with  noise  and  tumult,  at  the 
head  of  armies,  heralded  by  blare  of  trumpet,  and  beat 
of  drum.  He  comes  with  face  buried  in  his  mantle,  and 
prostrate  on  the  ground,  hearkening  for  a  still  small 
voice. 

Such  are  some  of  the  general  principles  which  should 
determine  the  question  of  the  intellectuality  of  modern 
preaching.  If  they  seem  too  general  to  determine  any 
thing  but  the  drift  of  a  preacher's  effort  to  do  the  best 


LECT.  xn.]  EVANGELISTIC   PREACHING.  197 

that  liis  own  intellectual  force  admits  of,  this  is  as 
specific  a  result  as  the  question  needs.  Questions  in 
detail  which  must  arise  under  it,  if  answered  in  the 
same  spirit,  can  not  well  lead  us  astray. 

From  the  views  here  expressed,  several  inferences 
deserve  notice.  One  is,  that  the  intellectuality  of 
preaching  must  necessarily  be  variable.  Not  only  must 
it  vary  with  different  ages,  but  it  must  be  adjusted  fo 
the  state  of  different  communities.  Congregations  side 
by  side  may  differ  widely  in  their  receptive  power  to- 
wards the  authority  of  the  pulpit.  The  underlying 
principles  being  always  the  same,  their  application  must 
obviously  vary  with  those  social  affinities  which  have 
been  dominant  in  gathering  the  constituents  of  different 
churches. 

Again :  an  itinerant  pulpit  can  not  be  safely  accepted 
as  a  model  in  point  of  intellectual  elevation  for  that  of 
a  permanent  ministry.  In  the  nature  of  the  case,  it  is 
impossible  that  an  itinerant  preacher  should  illustrate 
the  intellectual  conditions  of  success  which  a  stable 
ministry  requires.  The  Calvinistic  ideal  of  the  pulpit 
demands  a  studious  life,  and  continuity  of  service. 

For  similar  reasons,  an  evangelistic  ministry  can  not 
be  a  model  for  a  settled  pastor.  One  of  the  perils  at- 
tending the  successes  of  evangelists  is,  that  pastors  may 
be  tempted  to  imitate  their  fluent  and  superficial  uses 
of  the  Scriptures.  Nothing  could  be  more  unphUosophi- 
cal.  The  apparent  successes  of  some  illiterate  evangel- 
ists are  a  remarkable  phenomenon.  They  are  by  no 
means  to  be  ignored  by  a  wise  pastor.  Valuable  hints 
may  be  derived  from  them  by  an  observant  and  candid 
looker-on  to  whom  such  methods  of  working  may  be 
distasteful.  But  imagine  even  the  most  versatile  pastor 
endeavoring  to  imitate  the  methods  of  the  most  sensible 


l'J8  ENGLISH  STYLE.  Tlect.  xn 

evangelist, —  his  free  and  easy  use  of  texts,  his  large 
proportion  of  anecdote  and  biography  in  the  structure 
of  sermons,  his  unstinted  indulgence  in  autobiography 
for  the  sake  of  giving  piquancy  to  discourse,  and  his 
uncouth  attempts  at  dramatic  impersonation.  The  ex- 
periment would  very  soon  tell  its  own  story  of  disgust 
and  defeat. 

The  very  existence  of  the  best  forms  of  evangelistic 
preaching  presupposes  repetition  of  a  few  discourses  to 
different  audiences.  Even  such  an  evangelist  as  Mr. 
Moody — perhaps  the  best  of  his  class  that  our  times 
have  witnessed  —  could  not  indulge,  without  satiety  to 
his  hearers,  in  the  unstudied  effusions  which  constitute 
the  staple  of  his  discourses,  if  he  had  not  twenty  years 
of  evangelistic  labor  behind  him  from  which  to  draw 
illustrative  incidents  of  a  very  stimulating  sort.  So  far 
as  the  success  of  his  preaching  is  due  to  rhetorical  expe- 
dients, it  is  attributable  to  his  familiar  stories  from  real 
life,  more  than  to  all  other  elements  combined.  Pastors 
may  learn  from  them  such  lessons  as  these,  —  the  value 
of  biographical  reading,  the  ease  with  which  success 
reduplicates  itself  with  time,  and  the  vast  receptive  ca 
pacity  of  audiences  in  listening  to  the  plainest  speech, 
if  it  be  but  the  speech  of  a  man  in  earnest.  But  how 
long  would  the  resources  of  even  twenty  years  of  such 
success  as  his  last  in  a  continuous  ministry  to  one  audi- 
ence ?  The  style  of  preaching  most  unfit  to  be  imitated 
by  a  settled  pastor  is  that  of  the  most  effective  evangel- 
ist. The  very  elements  of  discourse  which  give  to  an 
evangelist  his  power  over  fleeting  assemblies  are  those 
which  pall  most  speedily,  and  finally  fall  flat,  on  the  tastes 
of  a  permanent  audience.  Homiletic  wisdom  we  must 
accumulate  from  the  studies  of  a  lifetime :  no  one  man 
can  teach  it  to  us  entire  b^  example,  and,  least  of  all.  a 


tKCT.  XII.]  THE  CALVINISTIC   PULPIT.  199 

man,  who,  by  the  conditions  of  his  service,  can  not  be  a 
student. 

The  views  we  have  considered  are  illustrated  and  co  n- 
firmed  by  the  history  of  the  Calvinistic  theory  of  preach- 
ing in  its  practical  working.  This  ideal  of  a  permanent 
pulpit  has  always  been  the  most  intellectual  one  in  Chris- 
tendom. It  has  created  the  ablest  clergy  the  world  has 
known.  It  has  contributed  to  literature  nearly  all  the 
literary  standards  which  have  sprung  from  the  pulpit. 
Everywhere  it  has  found  afl&nity  with  the  most  intel- 
lectual elements  in  Christian  communities.  It  has  com- 
manded the  docile  hearing  of  a  larger  proportion  of  men 
than  any  other  ideal  of  preaching.  It  has  attracted 
men  of  the  liberal  professions  and  their  cultured  fami- 
lies. That  large  class  from  the  middle  ranks  of  society 
which  represents  the  culture  of  mind  as  distinct  from 
the  culture  of  manners  has  fallen  under  the  teaching 
of  the  Calvinistic  pulpit  more  generally  than  under  that 
of  any  other.  Our  pidpit  has  met  the  demand  of  such 
culture  for  an  educated  and  stable  ministry.  It  has 
held  for  the  pulpit  the  world's  respect  also  in  the  most 
cultivated  ages  of  history.  It  has  kept  the  pulpit  from 
extinction  in  ages  of  revolution,  when  infidelity  has 
flooded  the  nations.  In  the  most  profound  and  pure 
TP  vi vals  of  religon  it  has  been  dominant,  when,  without 
it,  the  church  would  have  been  swept  into  a  maelstrom 
of  fanaticism.  And  to-day  it  lives  as  the  most  vigorous 
representative  of  Christian  thought,  and  one  which 
seems  to  have  the  most  promising  outlook  upon  the 
future.  So  far  as  any  thing  of  human  origin  can  be 
confirmed  by  the  divine  sanction  in  history,  this  Calvin- 
istic theory  of  a  high-toned  intellectual  pulpit  is  thus 
confirmed.  It  speaks  for  itself  no  uncertain  sound.  A 
century  of  disaster  could  not  blot  out  the  record  of 


200  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lkct.  in. 

what  it  has  been  and  has  done  for  ihe  redemptioix  of 
mankind. 

To  name  but  a  few  illustrious  examples,  mark  such  a 
pulpit  as  that  of  Calvin  at  Geneva,  that  of  Knox  at 
Glasgow,  that  of  Edwards  at  Northampton,  tbat  of 
Chalmers  at  Edinburgh,  that  of  Finney  at  Oberlin, 
and  that  of  Albert  Barnes  at  Philadelphia.  These  were 
all  of  them  filled  with  men  of  apostolic  ardor.  The 
emotional  resources  of  great  hearts  were  there  poured 
out  in  profusion.  Powerful  religious  awakenings  were 
the  fruit  of  them.  Yet  not  one  of  them  could  have  been 
what  it  was  and  is  to  the  world,  were  it  not  for  the 
thinking  powers  which  were  there  consecrated.  They 
illustrate  magnificently  the  practicability  of  combining 
great  hearts  with  great  intellects,  deep  feeling  with  deep 
thinking,  intellectual  conquest  with  the  baptism  of  the 
Holy  Ghost.  Such  union  of  elements  which  men  would 
often  put  asunder  constitutes  the  power  which  God 
honors  in  all  signal  triumphs  of  the  gospel.  In  crises 
of  history  they  are  never  sundered  in  the  ministrations 
of  the  pulpit.  In  calmer  times  they  never  fall  into  any 
marked  disproportion  to  each  other  without  disaster; 
and  that  disaster  is  never  remedied  till  the  equipoise  ia 
restored. 


LECTURE  XIII. 

ENEEGY  OF  STYLE  ;  ITS  FOUNDATION. 

Is  energy  of  style  susceptible  of  definition?  Not 
otherwise  than  by  the  use  of  its  synonyms  or  by  illus- 
trative emblems.  Energy  is  not,  as  Dr.  Campbell  de- 
fines it,  vivacity  of  style.  A  lamb  or  a  kitten  may  be 
vivacious,  but  neither  is  a  symbol  of  energy.  There  ia 
a  style  which  may  aptly  be  called  a  frisky  style,  but  that 
is  not  a  vigorous  style.  Again :  energy  is  not  merely  the 
superlative  of  perspicuity^  as  it  seems  to  have  been  re- 
garded by  Dr.  Lindley  Murray.  Perspicuity  underlies 
energy  as  it  underlies  other  qualities,  but  it  is  not  the 
equivalent  of  energy.  The  style  of  the  multiplication- 
table  is  clear,  but  it  is  not  forcible.  Light  is  the  emblem 
of  perspicuity :  lightning  is  the  emblem  of  energy. 

Further :  energy  is  not  merely  impressiveness  of  dic- 
tion. Some  writers  contend  that  all  eloquence  consists 
in  impression.  A  mathematical  demonstration,  then,  is 
eloq  lent  in  that  it  produces  an  effect.  An  oration  of 
Demosthenes  is  its  kindred  in  producing  impression. 
Starlight,  a  lily-of-the-valley,  the  song  of  a  nightingale, 
an  asolian  harp,  are  all  eloquent  in  the  same  Sonse  that 
this  quality  is  attributable  to  a  volcano  or  an  earth- 
quake. Those  diversities  of  diction,  therefore,  of  which 
these  objects  are  symbols,  are  all  alike.  When  you  have 
said  that  they  are  impressive,  you  have  said  all  there  ia 
to  be  said  of  them  in  the  way  of  definition. 

201 


202  ENGLISH    STYLE.  [lkot.  xm. 

Tliis  theory  is  either  a  play  upou  words,  or  it  is  a  false 
conceptiou  of  things.  It  leaves  no  room  for  distinguish- 
ing energy  from  any  other  kind  of  impression  produced 
by  language.  On  such  a  principle  you  can  not  distin- 
guish an  oration  from  a  song,  not  even  a  comic  song 
from  an  elegy.  These  words,  which  have  their  syno- 
nyms in  all  languages,  —  energy,  strength,  force,  vigor, 
—  do  certainly  express  an  idea  not  otherwise  definable 
than  by  interchange  of  these  words.  They  convey  an 
idea  which  the  common  sense  of  men  never  confounds 
with  the  impressiveness  of  a  mathematical  theorem,  or 
that  of  a  bird-of-paradise,  or  that  of  the  tail  of  a  pea- 
cock. These  words  are  ultimate  in  all  languages;  so 
that  we  can  not  add  to  their  significance,  except  by 
material  emblems.  We  can  only  say  that  energy  is  a 
peculiar  kind  of  impressiveness :  it  is  the  impressiveness 
of  strength  as  distinct  from  that  of  clearness ;  it  is  the 
impressiveness  of  force  as  distinct  from  that  of  beauty ; 
it  is  the  impressiveness  of  vigor  as  distinct  from  that 
of  vivacity.  Leaving  it  thus  undefined,  except  by 
interchange  of  synonyms,  we  are  in  no  more  danger  of 
mistaking  it  for  either  of  the  impressive  qualities  from 
which  it  differs  than  we  are  of  mistaking  an  elephant 
for  a  humming-bird. 

I.  The  most  important  suggestions  in  the  discussion 
of  energy  of  style  arrange  themselves  naturally  under 
several  topics,  of  which  the  first  is  the  principle  that  the 
foundation  of  a  forcible  discourse  must  be  laid  in  the 
state  of  the  writer's  mind  in  the  act  of  composing. 

1.  Let  it  be  observed  that  a  forcible  writer  must  have 
thoughts  to  which  forcible  expression  is  appropriate. 
Energetic  expression  is  not  apt  to  all  varieties  of  thought. 
A  truism  this,  3^et  it  is  often  overlooked  by  preachers. 
The  fact  that  preaching  is  always  discourse  on  serious 


t-ECT.  xm.]  FORCE   NOT  ALWAYS   APT.  203 

themes,  often  induces  an  oblivion  of  all  other  aims  of 
style,  except  the  single  one  of  forcible  impression :  hence 
the  monotone  of  solemnity  often  heard  in  the  pulpit. 
The  chronic  straining  after  force  is  relieved  by  no  af- 
fluence of  vocabulary,  no  versatility  of  construction,  no 
mobility  of  expression,  because  it  is  not  regulated  by  care 
to  fit  expression  to  thought.  When  delivery  takes  on 
the  same  monotone,  the  result  is  the  proverbial  droning 
of  the  sermon.  No  other  delivery  is  natural  to  such  a 
diction.  Neither  the  delivery  nor  the  diction  is  toler- 
ated anywhere  but  i'j  the  pulpit. 

Observe,  then,  thp.t  not  all  serious  thought  is  the 
proper  subject  of  energetic  expression.  Some  thoughts 
as  existing  in  the  speaker's  mind  are  too  feebly  con- 
ceived to  be  naturally  put  forth  with  energy.  Words 
can  not  put  on  them  by  authority  of  the  dictionary  a 
quality  which  is  not  in  them. 

Again :  unimportant  thought,  however  clear,  is  not  the 
proper  subject  of  energy  of  expression.  Speakers  who 
ignore  this  create  in  their  style  a  gap  between  expres- 
sion and  thought,  which  commonly  results  in  bombast. 
Thii^>  if3  only  another  mode  of  putting  upon  a  thought 
a  quality  which  is  not  in  it.  You  can  not  speak  with 
energy  of  an  infant's  rattle  or  a  tuft  of  thistledown, 
without  uttering  burlesque.  Rufus  Choate  once  poured 
out  an  impassioned  strain  of  eloquence,  in  a  vocabulary 
which  no  other  man  could  equal,  in  defense  of  his  cli- 
ent's right  to  a  side-saddle.  It  convulsed  the  Boston 
oar  with  laughter. 

Further :  some  thoughts  are  important,  and  as  clear  as 
they  can  be,  and  yet  are  not  becoming  subjects  of  an 
energetic  utterance.  Some  thoughts  are  necessarily 
indefinite  in  any  truthful  conception  of  them  by  a  finite 
mind.     The}"  depend,  for  all  the  impressiveness  of  which 


204  ENGLISH   STYIiE.  [lkct.  xin. 

they  are  susceptible,  ou  a  certain  degree  of  vagueness. 
Define  them  sharply,  and  they  are  no  longer  true.  The 
immortality  of  the  soul,  the  eternity  of  God,  divine 
omnipresence,  are  examples.  All  thoughts  suggestive 
of  the  infinite  in  time  or  space  must  be  clouded  to  finite 
vision  in  order  to  be  truthful.  They  must  be  felt,  if  at 
all,  through  a  remote  perspective, — so  remote  as  to 
create  a  certain  dimness  of  outline  which  gives  room 
for  the  imagination  to  play.  You  can  not  drag  them  out 
of  their  sublime  reserve  by  the  mere  enginery  of  style. 

Why  is  it  that  arithmetical  calculations  of  the  length 
of  eternity  are  always  flat,  except  to  a  juvenile  taste  ? 
Inspired  taste  never  attempts  that  impossible  achieve- 
ment. The  Scriptures  hint  at  the  expression  of  multi- 
tude by  allusion  to  the  stars  as  a  symbol,  but  even 
that  they  never  elaborate.  The  hint  is  thrown  out  to 
the  imagination  of  the  reader,  and  left  there.  The 
favorite  expedient  of  the  pulpit  at  one  time,  for  lifting 
the  popular  thought  to  some  adequate  notion  of  eternal 
duration,  was  to  measure  it  by  the  number  of  grains  of 
sand  on  the  seashore,  each  grain  representing  an  almost 
inconceivable  cycle  of  years,  and  the  grains  being  count- 
less in  number.  You  can  not  expand  beyond  a  very 
moderate  degree  the  conception  of  eternity  which  a 
mature  mind  has,  by  such  machinery  of  description. 
You  only  inflate  it.  You  are  fortunate  if  the  collapse 
does  not  render  it  ridiculous.  It  is  like  measuring  the 
globe  of  the  earth  by  a  soap-bubble. 

A  French  preacher,  by  practicing  a  similar  arithmeti- 
cal ingenuity  upon  his  audience,  endeavors  to  illustrate 
the  certainty  with  which  death  must  swallow  up  all  men 
in  oblivion.  He  remarks,  in  substance,  taking  the  hint 
probably  from  Saurin,  "  This  audience  may  number 
about  eighteen  hundred  souls.     Between  the  ages  of  ten 


tEOT.  xm.]       ZLLUSTRATIONS   OF   MAGNITUDE.  205 

and  twenty  years  there  may  be  about  five  hundred  and 
thirty ;  between  the  ages  of  twenty  and  thirty  years, 
about  six  hundred  and  fifty ;  between  the  ages  of  thirty 
and  forty  years,  about  four  hundred  and  sixty."  So 
he  proceeds  to  classify  and  count  his  audience,  as  if  the 
national  census  were  before  him ;  and  then  he  goes  on 
to  say,  "  According  to  the  national  bills  of  mortality, 
only  twelve  hundred  and  seventy  of  my  hearers  wUl  be 
living  in  ten  years ;  in  twenty  years,  only  eight  hundred 
and  thirty."  Thus  he  reckons  the  prospect  of  life,  as 
if  he  were  constructing  tables  for  life-insurance;  and 
the  conclusion  of  his  elaborate  computation  is,  "  So  you 
see,  my  brethren,  that  human  society  is  in  one  continual 
flux."  The  flatness  of  the  inference  is  a  caustic  satire 
on  the  rhetorical  method  of  the  discourse.  It  is  as 
eloquent  as  a  table  of  logarithms. 

Compare  the  foregoing  with  a  passing  hint  at  the 
tears  of  Xerxes  at  the  thought  that  his  army  of  a  million 
of  men  would  be  in  the  grave  in  a  hundred  years.  Which 
of  the  two  is  the  more  impressive  ?  The  fact  was  once 
affirmed  in  a  sermon,  that  if  the  whole  past  population 
of  the  globe  had  been  buried  in  regular  order,  side  by 
side,  its  surface  would  have  been  twice  covered  over 
with  graves.  That  brief  hint  at  the  number  of  the 
dead  produced  a  powerful  effect  so  long  as  the  truth  of 
it  was  unquestioned.  But,  unfortunatel} ,  a  hearer  of 
mathematical  taste  set  himself  to  reckoning  the  facts 
geometrically,  and  found  that  the  highest  probable 
number  of  the  earth's  past  and  present  population 
might  have  been  buried,  with  room  to  spare,  within  the 
area  of  Worcester  County  in  Massachusetts.  So  long 
as  the  preacher's  statement  was  believed,  however,  the 
hearer's  imagination  gave  to  it  more  than  the  force  of 
demonstration. 


206  ENGLISH   STYLM.  fLECt.  tin 

These  are  specimens  of  truths  which  must  be  left  in 
some  indeterminate  form,  and  given  over  to  the  hearer's 
imagination,  in  order  to  be  forcible.  Dwell  upon  them 
by  an  attempt  to  define  them,  and  the  effect  is  that  you 
flatten  them.  iNIilton  recognizes  this  principle  in  the 
fact  that  he  makes  no  attempt  to  describe  minutely  the 
angels  who  appear  in  the  "  Paradise  Lost."  He  leaves 
them  in  shadowy  outline,  in  which  we  see  their  differ- 
ences enough  to  know  them  apart,  and  no  more.  Thb 
poet's  instinct  revealed  to  him  a  profound  principle  of 
style.  The  principle  is  the  same  with  that  involved  in 
the  philosophical  basis  of  the  second  commandment  of 
the  Decalogue.  An  idea,  which,  because  of  the  finiteness 
of  the  human  mind,  must  depend  on  its  indefiniteness 
for  its  purest  and  most  profound  impression,  must  not  be 
pictured  nor  carved.  Hence  arises  the  failure  of  modern 
art  to  express  on  canvas  the  conception  of  the  Deity  by 
the  form  of  an  aged  and  venerable  man.  Hence,  also, 
the  failure  of  the  Romish  ritual  to  express  by  the  cruci- 
fix the  mystery  of  the  incarnation  and  atonement. 
Define  such  ideas  by  the  sharpness  of  material  forms, 
and  you  degrade  them  to  a  level  with  material  forms. 
You  compel  the  mind  to  part  with  the  only  faculty  it 
has  by  which  to  approximate  the  truths  involved ;  that 
is,  it  parts  with  its  own  imagination.  It  exchanges  the 
imagination  for  the  eye.  It  barters  a  spiritual  faculty 
for  a  sense. 

Moreover,  some  thoughts  not  unimportant,  and  not 
necessarily  indefinite,  are  still  not  the  proper  subjects 
of  energetic  expression.  Thought  in  which  beauty  or 
pathos  is  the  predominant  element  does  not  admit  of 
energy  in  its  utterance.  Forceful  words  and  metaphors 
may  be  thrust  upon  it,  but  do  not  express  it.  When 
President  Edwards  illustrated  the  grace  of  trust  by  the 


IBCT.  XIII.]  ENTHUSIASM  IN   COMPOSING.  20" 

emblem  of  the  daisy,  he  spoke  beautifully,  impressively 
but  not  with  strength.  Imagine  that  he  had  used  an 
oak,  instead  of  a  daisy;  or,  more  incongruously  still, 
fancy  that  he  had  poured  out  a  volume  of  vehement 
words,  and  piled  around  his  thought  martial  metaphors ; 
then  conceive  that  he  had  enforced  these  with  tem- 
pestuous elocution,  gesturing  passionately  with  the  fist 
instead  of  the  open  palm.  Would  he  have  expressed 
the  grace  of  filial  trust  as  well  ? 

This  suggests  the  most  common  defect,  in  point  of 
energy,  in  otherwise  good  composition.  It  is  that  the 
speaker  is  not  content  with  a  style  which  fits  the  thought, 
but  must  strain  to  force  into  it  strength  which  is  foreign 
to  the  thought.  Be  it  an  earthquake  or  a  summer 
twilight  which  is  to  be  represented,  it  must  be  clothed 
with  strength,  like  the  neck  of  the  war-horse.  Evident- 
ly, then,  the  first  thing  requisite  to  a  genuine  energy  of 
speech  is  the  possession  and  the  mastery  of  materials 
which  demand  energy  of  speech. 

2.  In  the  same  line  of  thought,  a  second  requisite  is 
that  one  should  speak  or  write  with  enthusiasm.  "  Logic 
set  on  fire  "  is  one  of  the  recorded  definitions  of  elo- 
quence. "  Heat  is  life,  and  cold  is  death,"  says  a  living 
scientist.  The  absence  of  the  element  of  heat  in  all 
things  tends  to  stagnation.  A  preacher  may  l)e  an  en- 
thusiast in  temperament,  yet  not  in  work.  One  may 
be  uplifted  by  emotional  fervor  in  the  abstract  contem- 
plation of  the  work,  yet  not  in  the  discussion  of  the 
present  theme.  One  may  be  inspired  by  a  present  theme 
as  a  subject  of  meditation,  yet  not  inspired  by  it  as  a 
subject  of  discourse.  One  may  be  eloquent  on  the 
present  subject  to  some  audiences,  yet  not  eloquent  in 
discourse  to  a  present  audience.  Enthusiasm  of  com- 
munication on  a  present  theme  to  present  hearers  ia 
the  power  of  movement  in  public  speech. 


208  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lbct.  xm 

The  history  of  the  pulpit  has  often  illustrated  the  fact 
that  some  meu  who  think  passionately  can  not  preach 
passionately.  Some  who  extemporize  with  fire  can  not 
write  with  fire.  All  conditions  must  be  favorable  to  the 
generation  and  the  emission  of  heat  in  order  to  secure 
the  superlative  force  in  expression.  It  is  an  invaluable 
mental  habit,  therefore,  to  picture  an  audience  in  the  soli- 
tude of  one's  study.  This  gives  reality  to  the  written 
sermon  as  nothing  else  can.  It  makes  a  living  thing  of 
it :  it  turns  soliloquy  into  discourse  —  two  things  which 
are  very  unlike,  and  which  characterize  two  very  dis- 
similar styles  of  preaching. 

Nothing  else  can  take  the  place,  or  do  the  work,  of 
this  force  of  feeling.  Energy  and  enthusiasm  co-exist  in 
character :  they  must  co-exist  in  style.  Scientists  tell 
us,  that  the  force  of  the  pulsations  of  a  human  heart  is 
measured  by  the  weight  of  tons  in  twenty-four  hours. 
If  all  the  beats  of  your  heart  in  one  day  of  time  could 
be  concentrated  into  one  huge  throb  of  vital  power,  it 
would  suffice  to  throw  a  ton  of  iron  a  hundred  and 
twenty  feet  into  the  air.  A  fitting  symbol  is  this  of 
the  spiritual  power  which  a  human  mind  may  put  forth 
in  its  great  moods  of  inspired  emotion.  Faith  then 
hurls  the  mountain  into  the  sea.  One  reason,  the  chief 
reason,  why  some  preachers  exhibit  power  on  great 
occasions  only,  is  that  their  emotive  nature  is  roused 
by  great  occasions  only.  It  is  this  energy  of  passion 
which  renders  the  prophetic  style  of  the  Scriptures  so 
perfect  a  specimen  of  strength  in  discourse.  The  in- 
spired mind  was  inundated  by  the  torrent  of  its  emo- 
tions. 

It  deserves  remark,  that,  in  this  respect,  oratorical  art 
coincides  in  its  requirements  with  the  most  profound  reli- 
gious culture.     Observe  how  each  confirms  the  other 


txcT.  xin.]  INTELLECT   AND   PIETY.  209 

Art  affirms,  that,  to  speak  forcibly,  a  man  must  speak 
with  soul  on  fire.  Therefore  a  preacher  must  preach 
that  which  is  his  own  by  the  right  of  profound  experi- 
ence. But,  to  preach  such  experience,  he  must  possess 
it ;  and,  to  possess  it,  he  must  be  a  man  of  God.  Reli- 
gious culture  can  speak  no  otherwise,  and  can  go  no 
farther.  The  conscience  of  the  man  and  the  instinct  of 
the  orator  proclaim  the  same  thing.  If  St.  Paul  had 
been  inspired  to  teach  homiletics  upon  the  pure  princi^ 
pies  of  rhetorical  art  as  illustrated  in  Demosthenean 
eloquence,  he  must  have  said  precisely  what  he  did  say 
as  an  apostle  of  Christianity,  "  Though  I  speak  with  the 
tongue  of  men  and  of  angels,  and  have  not  charity,  I 
am  become  as  sounding  brass." 

I  beg  you  to  note  such  points  of  kindred  between  the 
religious  culture  of  the  man  and  the  professional  cul- 
ture of  the  orator.  Both  lay  the  same  injunction  on  a 
preacher.  Some  religious  minds  do  not  recognize  this ; 
and  such  minds  have  a  way  of  expressing  their  pious 
emotions  at  the  expense  of  the  oratorical  instinct,  which 
creates  »a  unnatural  antagonism  between  the  two. 
Religion  can  no  more  afford  this  than  eloquence  can. 
It  is  one  variety  of  that  violence  to  nature  which  Dr. 
Arnold  had  in  mind,  when  he  said,  "  I  fear  the  approach 
of  a  greater  struggle  between  good  and  evil  than  the 
world  has  yet  seen,  in  which  will  happen  the  greatest 
trial  to  the  faith  of  good  men  that  can  be  imagined,  if 
the  greatest  talent  and  ability  are  on  the  side  of  their 
adversaries,  and  they  have  nothing  but  faith  and  holi- 
ness to  oppose  to  them."  A  preacher  should  never 
suffer  his  own  mind,  in  any  thing  even  the  most  trivial, 
to  fall  under  the  tyranny  of  a  secret  antagonism  between 
conscience  and  intellect.  No  servitude  is  more  degrad- 
ing or  more  hopeless. 


210  ENGLISH  STYI.E.  [lect.  nn 

3.  The  materials  to  wliich  energy  of  expression  is  apt, 
being  in  posesssion,  and  these  being  projected  in  the 
style  by  the  force  of  jiersonal  enthusiasm  in  the  preacher, 
energy  requires  still  further,  that,  in  the  act  of  compos- 
ing, he  shall  write  or  speak  with  an  immediate  object  in 
vieiv. 

Oral  discourse  is  sometimes  soliloquy  in  its  nature. 
If  not  such  as  a  whole,  it  often  is  such  in  unwary  pas- 
sages. It  may  degenerate  even  into  revery,  or  rise  on 
the  wing  into  rhapsody.  Then,  the  speaker  is  only 
thinking  aloud.  The  whole  power  of  his  discourse  is 
expended  on  himself.  No  audience  is  pictured  in  his 
imagination :  therefore  no  projecting  force  aims  the 
discourse  at  an  object  outside  of  his  own  being.  Such 
preaching  can  not  appear  supremely  forcible  to  hearers. 
To  them  it  can  appear  to  be  only  what  it  is.  This 
defect  exists  in  the  experience  of  the  pulpit  in  great 
variety  of  degree,  from  that  of  indirectness  only,  to  that 
of  downright  inanity  of  diction.  More  frequently  than 
otherwise  it  is  found  in  fragments  of  the  sermon  in 
which  the  preacher  has  momentarily  written  without  a 
tense  aim.  Sometimes,  however,  it  is  the  chief  charac- 
teristic of  a  juvenile  production. 

In  the  Church  of  St.  jNIark,  in  Venice,  a  traveler 
observes  a  collection  of  mosaics  and  columns  which  in 
themselves  are  of  great  beauty,  some  of  them  of  untold 
value.  They  are  trophies  of  ancient  Venetian  victories. 
But  the  spectator  can  not  help  asking,  "What  have 
these  things  to  do  here  ?  This  column  which  supports 
nothing  —  why  is  it  here?  This  mosaic  of  a  battle- 
scene —  what  is  the  pertinence  of  it  in  a  Christian 
church?  This  fragment  from  a  Turkish  mosque  archi- 
tecturally has  nothing  to  do  —  what  is  the  meaning  of 
it  in  a  place  of  Christian  worship?     This  Ionic  pUlai 


LECr.  xiii,]  URGENCY   OF   OBJECT.  211 

from  the  Acropolis  of  Athens  stands  upright,  with 
nothing  above  it  which  gives  a  reason  lor  its  location 
—  why  is  it  here  in  the  Church  of  St.  Mark?"  Incon- 
gruity of  association  offsets  one's  admiration  of  these 
relics  of  Venetian  history,  simply  because  one  discovers 
no  object  which  they  can  serve  in  keeping  with  the 
place. 

A  juvenile  discourse  is  often  of  similar  character,  filled 
here  and  there  with  irrelevances,  indirectnesses,  object- 
less paragraphs,  impertinent  illustrations,  things  inter- 
polated for  their  own  sake,  allusions  from  afar  thrust  in 
for  the  speaker's  delectation,  but  which  to  the  hearer  are 
unimpressive,  because  void  of  any  meaning  which  con- 
cerns him.  Such  discourse  is  apt  to  appear  to  a  hearer 
indolent.  Its  movement  is  laggard.  Time  hangs  heavy 
in  listening  to  it.  A  short  sermon  thus  constructed  is 
tedious,  and  a  long  one  intolerable.  This  must  be  so, 
for  the  reason  that  the  hearer  is  not  sensible  of  being 
made  the  object  of  the  sermon.  Least  of  all  does  the 
discourse  create  the  sense  of  its  having  been  created  for 
him,  and  predestined  to  reach  him. 

On  the  contrary,  discourse  which  has  an  object  —  a 
palpable  object,  an  immediate  object,  an  urgent  object, 
an  object  incessantly  present  to  the  speaker's  thought, 
to  which  he  hastens  on  for  the  hearer's  sake  —  is  sure 
to  be  in  some  degree  energetic  discourse.  Why  does 
everybody  spring  at  a  cry  of  "Fire"?  For  the  same 
reason,  direct  preachers  are  almost  always  energetic 
preachers.  Serious  defects  are  oftei^  sustained  by  this 
one  excellence.  It  is  one  of  the  chief  sources  of  the 
vigor  of  St.  Paul's  Epistles.  Longinus  calls  the  style  of 
St.  Paul  the  "  anapodeictic  "  style,  that  is,  the  style,  not 
of  one  in  search  of,  but  of  one  in  possession  of, 
truth,  and  using  it  eagerly  for  an  object. 


212  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lbct.  xin 

This  anapodeictic  style  has  been  illustrated  iu  the 
discourses  of  all  the  great  preachers  who  have  beeu 
leaders  in  great  awakenings  of  the  popular  conscience. 
Savonarola,  Wickliffe,  Latimer,  Luther,  Calvin,  Knox, 
Edwards,  Finney,  —  all  gave  superlative  examples  of  it. 
Those  now  living  who  have  listened  to  the  last  of  these 
great  historic  preachers  recall  nothing  else  so  character- 
istic of  him  as  that  he  never  preached  a  sermon,  or  a 
fragment  of  one,  without  an  object,  —  an  exigent  object, 
a  present  object,  an  object  made  as  luminous  to  the 
hearer  as  to  the  preacher,  and  an  object  which  concerned 
the  hearers  more  than  all  the  world  besides.  This  was 
the  one  overpowering  impression  of  his  discourses.  The 
style  of  them  was  like  a  concave  speculum,  which  con- 
centrated all  rays  of  light  upon  one  point,  to  illuminate 
that  point,  to  make  that  point  glow  till  the  eye  was 
blinded  if  it  looked  away.  Yet  this  was  done  calmly. 
Few  preachers  have  depended  so  little  upon  external 
drapery,  and  so  much  on  pure  thought.  Few  made  so 
little  ado  in  the  conquest  of  a  hearer's  convictions. 
His  sermons  were  solid  thought,  packed  in  solid  lan- 
guage, and  built  around  a  listener,  so  that  he  could  not 
get  out  and  away  from  it,  with  either  a  quiet  conscience 
or  an  honest  intellect. 

EXCURSUS. 

The  importance  of  this  element  of  directness  in  preach- 
ing gives  pertinence  to  an  excursus  at  this  point,  on  the 
inquiry,  What  is  the  groundwork  of  this  marvelous 
power  of  direct  and  solid  thought  in  sermons  ?  It  lies 
in  a  very  simple  principle,  which,  because  of  its  sim- 
plicity, we  are  apt  to  overlook.  It  is  the  individuality 
of  moral  influence.  Strictly  speaking,  moral  influence 
never  moves  men  in  the  mass.     It  reaches  first  the  indi- 


LECT.  xin.]       INDIVIDUALITY   IN   PREACHING.  213 

vidual  man,  each  one  in  his  singleness.  The  response 
to  it  is  an  individual  experience.  The  depth  of  it  is 
proportioned  to  the  sense  of  moral  solitude  awakened 
by  it.  "  Alone  with  God !  alone  with  God !  "  this  is 
the  interior  and  unutterable  sense  awakened  by  the 
most  powerful  preaching.  The  sum  total  of  such  power 
is  nothing  but  the  aggregate  of  such  individual  contri- 
butions. 

Moral  influence,  also,  is  individual  in  the  fact  that  it 
penetrates  individual  souls  more  profoundly  than  it  can 
penetrate  society  as  such.  Social  changes  are  relatively 
superficial  changes.  They  are  hints  of  a  "  lower  deep  " 
in  the  inarticulate  experience  of  the  individual.  Every 
man  has  strata  of  being  which  social  relations  do  not 
bring  to  the  surface.  Each  one  knows  his  own,  but 
only  in  an  unbroken  solitude.  Each  lives  them,  but 
never  communicates  them,  and  never  can.  Only  results 
of  them,  and  those  not  the  most  profound,  come  to  the 
upper  air  in  the  form  of  sympathies.  The  soul  and  God 
are  the  only  two  beings  in  the  universe  who  know  what 
the  man  is  in  that  inner  and  silent  consciousness. 

Yet  preaching  aims  chiefly  at"  those  depths  of  individ- 
ual being  in  which  the  soul  is  alone  with  God.  True 
preaching  should  have  a  profoundness  of  reach  which 
in  one  sense  imitates  the  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in 
regeneration.  It  achieves  nothing  worthy  of  the  pulpit, 
if  it  fails  of  that  singleness  and  depth  of  individual 
aim.  We  talk  grandly,  often,  of  reaching  the  "  public  " 
from  the  pulpit.  But,  to  a  preacher  of  apostolic  reach, 
the  public  as  such  is  nothing.  His  aim  is  at  the  individ- 
uals who  compose  the  public.  Do  not  be  deceived  by 
the  glamour  of  reputation  with  the  public.  It  counts 
for  nothing  except  as  it  represents  grasp  upon  individ- 
ual hearts.     The  decline  of  pa  itoral  toil  in  deference  to 


214  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [lect.  xiit 

what  are  dignified  as  public  labors  is  a  woful  loss  to 
the  spiritual  power  of  the  pulpit. 

Said  one  of  these  mistaken  pastors,  "I  can  not  visit 
my  people.  I  am  a  public  man :  my  public  duties  leave 
me  no  time  and  no  force  for  private  intercourse  with 
individuals."  Doubtless  he  believed  it.  He  may  have 
thanked  God  that  he  was  not  as  other  men  in  the  hum- 
bler walks  of  ministerial  service.  But  what  was  he 
doing  as  a  public  man  ?  He  was  lecturing  to  lyceums ; 
he  was  debating  in  conventions  for  the  extension  of 
suffrage  ;  he  was  writing  articles  for  newspapers,  on  life- 
insurance,  on  domestic  architecture,  on  heating  houses 
by  steam  conveyed  underground,  and  doing  a  thousand 
and  one  things,  many  of  which  had  not  even  a  collateral 
connection  with  the  proper  business  of  his  life.  Was 
he  a  busy  man  ?  Yes :  he  never  had  an  idle  hour.  His 
life  was  a  rush.  Was  he  a  busy  minister  ?  No :  the 
great  majority  of  his  hours  were  idle  hours.  His  pulpit 
suffered  in  depth  and  singleness  of  aim,  and  therefore 
in  spirituality  of  result,  by  that  substitution  of  reputa- 
tion with  the  public  for  power  with  individual  souls. 
In  the  extreme  of  this  error  we  find  a  minister  given 
over  of  God  to  the  breeding  of  horses.  "Should  a 
wise  man  fill  his  belly  with  the  east  wind  ?  " 

This  modern  twist  in  the  policy  of  the  pulpit,  by 
which  it  is  made  the  servitor  to  countless  matters  of 
civilization  only,  and  by  which  civilization  supplants 
redemption,  is  a  fearful  one  in  its  possible  bearings  on 
the  church  of  the  future. 

Dr.  Chalmers  never  hit  the  target  in  the  eye  more 
deftly  than  when  he  said  on  a  topic  kindred  to  the  one 
before  us,  "  The  public  is  a  big  baby."  Accordingly, 
he  never  felt  that  his  most  vital  work  as  a  minister  of 
Christ  was  in  any  thing  which  gave  evidence  by  visible 


tECT.  xnt.]  DIEECTNESS   OF  AIM.  215 

signs  of  having  caught  the  popular  breeze,  and  of 
bandying  his  own  name  back  and  forth  in  the  gossip 
of  the  hour.  He  loved,  rather,  to  seek  out  individuals 
in  "  Burke's  Close,"  in  the  West  Port  of  Edinburgh. 
There  he  found  the  work  which  he  revered.  The 
platfonn  was  nothing  to  him  except  as  he  could  make 
it  tributary  to  the  regeneration  of  "Burke's  Close." 
There  he  could  feel  the  roots  of  all  other  success. 

Returning,  now,  to  the  topic  which  has  led  us  to  this 
digression,  I  remark  that  forceful  preaching  has  always 
a  quality  which  claims  and  exercises  this  right  of  way 
to  individual  souls.  "We  feebly  call  it  directness.  It 
grows  out  of  the  vision  of  a  distinct,  a  single,  an  imme- 
diate, an  urgent  object.  It  concentrates  power  upon 
the  one  hearer.  Oftener  than  otherwise,  it  expresses 
itself  in  the  consciousness  of  the  preacher  by  his  literally 
addressing  a  sermon  to  one  man.  The  sermon  reaches 
a  class  by  reaching  the  one  man  for  whom  it  has  been 
constructed  and  to  whom  it  is  delivered.  Any  discourse 
prepared  in  the  light  of  such  vision  must  have  some 
power.  Our  minds  are  so  made  that  we  can  not  help 
feeling  the  tenseness  of  the  preacher's  aim.  It  com- 
municates itself  to  his  style  by  peculiarities  which 
we  can  not  always  define,  but  which  we  always  feel. 
We  may  not  believe  the  discourse ;  but  the  preacher 
believes  it,  and  we  believe  in  liim.  Therefore,  for  the 
time,  we  can  not  but  feel  the  magnetism-  of  his  concen- 
trativeness.  We  tremble  in  sympathy  with  the  arrow 
which  is  eager  for  its  mark. 

One  of  the  most  profound  criticisms  ever  made  upon 
a  sermon  was  made  by  a  plain,  blunt  man  upon  a 
discourse  which  to  some  appeared  elaborate,  finished, 
faultless.     It  was  not  faultless ;  it  was  not  finished  as 


216  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lbot.  xm 

a  sermon ;  it  was  not  even  elaborate.  And  the  blunt, 
plain  man  disclosed  its  radical  defect  in  one  breath  by 
remarking,  "  Very  good ;  yes,  very  good  —  but  what 
then  ?  What  of  it  ?  I  did  not  feel  that  it  hit  me :  did 
you  feel  that  it  hit  you  ?  "  A  volume  of  homiletic  wis- 
dom was  compressed  in  those  words.  That  is  a  poor 
sermon,  and,  if  designed  for  a  sermon,  it  is  as  poor  a 
specimen  of  literature  as  of  any  thing  else,  of  which 
the  hearer's  conscience  can  honestly  say,  "  Very  good 
but  what  of  it?" 


LECTURE  XIV. 

ENEBOf  OF  STYLE;  FOUNDED  IN  SELF-POSSESSION. 

Vigorous  materials,  enthusiasm  in  composing,  and 
an  immediate  object  in  view,  will  not  of  necessity  and 
always  secure  the  supremely  forcible  expression.  One 
other  element  is  requisite.  It  is,  that,  in  the  act  of 
composing,  a  preacher  should  he  self-possessed,  A  French 
critic  says  that  eloquence  is  not  delirium.  Carlyle  adds, 
"  We  do  not  call  a  man  strong  who  has  convulsions, 
though  in  the  fit  ten  men  can  not  hold  him."  For 
superlative  force  in  style  a  man  must  be  master  of  his 
subject,  his  audience,  his  occasion.  He  must  not  permit 
them  to  be  master  of  him.  Enthusiasm  must  be  so 
under  control  as  to  be  susceptible  of  use  at  the  speak- 
er's will. 

Shakspeare  had  in  mind  the  element  of  oratory  corre- 
sponding to  this  when  he  said,  "  In  the  very  torrent  and 
tempest,  and,  as  I  may  say,  whirlwind,  of  his  passion, 
he  must  acquire  and  beget  a  temperance  that  may  give 
it  smoothness."  Fury  in  speech  is  not  energy.  Observe 
the  difference.  It  marks  the  line  between  certain 
common  defects  and  excellences  in  preaching;  and  it 
suggests,  also,  the  factitiousness  of  certain  popular 
cravings  by  which  the  pulpit  is  beset. 

Mark,  then,  that  uncontrolled  enthusiasm  is  founded 
on  a  partial  mastery  of  thought.  It  is  necessarily  one- 
Bided.     So  far,  it  is  ignorant.     Absolute  mastery  of  a 

217 


218  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [lect.  xiv 

truth  never  puts  a  man  out  of  reason.  By  seeing  a  truth 
all  around,  we  see  it  as  modified  by  other  truths.  We 
see  it  as  balanced  by  its  opposites.  The  loss  of  a 
balanced  mind  is  always  the  loss  of  something  true. 
Therefore  unbalanced  enthusiasm  leads  to  false  asser- 
tions in  style.  It  prompts  to  inconsiderate  superlatives. 
Qualifications  are  ignored.  Metaphor  ceases  to  be 
auxiliary  to  truth :  it  becomes  intemperance  of  speech. 
An  intemperate  style  thus  formed  invites  and  is  aggra- 
vated by  an  intemperate  delivery.  The  utterance  of 
such  a  style  demands  vociferous  tones.  A  severity  of 
countenance  approaching  to  a  scowl  is  becoming  to  it. 
Gesture  with  the  fist  becomes  instinctive  in  place  of 
gesture  with  the  open  palm.  The  entire  physical  mag- 
netism of  the  speaker  is  perverted  to  exaggerated  and 
repellent  uses. 

A  passionate  style,  therefore,  tends  always  to  defeat 
itself.  Like  any  thing  else  that  is  overwrought,  it  invites 
re-action.  It  disgusts,  it  shocks,  it  wearies,  it  amuses, 
according  to  the  mood  of  the  hearer.  Practically  it  is 
weakness,  not  strength.  Why  is  it  that  we  are  often 
inclined  to  laugh  at  an  angry  man?  Shrewd  politicians 
understand  that  one  way  to  defeat  an  opponent  is  to 
fret  his  good  nature,  and  let  him  defeat  himself.  Make 
a  man  furious  in  debate,  and  you  make  him  harmless. 
Entice  a  man  into  a  duel,  and  he  is  politically  dead, 
whether  the  bullet  reaches  him  or  not. 

Daniel  Webster  in  middle  life  was  a  model  of  self- 
possession,  and  therefore  of  power.  His  habit  was  to 
restrain  himself  under  the  provocations  of  debate ;  never 
to  be  tempted  by  them  into  petty  skirmishes  with  oppo- 
nents ;  to  wait  till  the  great  principles  involved  could 
be  reached,  and  then  to  handle  them,  rather  than  the 
men  who  denied  them.     In  his  old  age  he  lost  prestige 


LECT.  XIV.]  STYLE   OF   DE   QUITS  GEY.  219 

in  this  respect,  and  with  a  corresponding  loss  of  power. 
The  English  Parliament  used  to  laugh  at  Edmund 
Burke's  most  solemn  adjurations,  because  they  exceeded 
the  dignity  of  self-collected  speech.  Lord  Brougham 
was  more  frequently  defeated  by  his  own  petulance 
^han  by  the  argument  of  his  opponents. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  examples  of  intemperate 
style  among  modern  essayists  is  that  of  De  Quincey. 
His  is  a  most  fascinating  style  to  young  writers ;  excel- 
lent, therefore,  for  the  purpose  of  mental  quickening. 
But  you  will  find  that  it  will  not  wear  well  to  your 
maturer  tastes,  and  that  its  most  serious  defect  is  its 
want  of  the  dignity  of  self-possession.  The  following 
will  illustrate  my  meaning:  "Any  man  of  sound  sense 
might  take  up  the  whole  academy  of  modern  econo- 
mists, and  throttle  them  between  heaven  and  earth  with 
his  finger  and  thumb,  or  bray  their  fungous  heads  to 
powder  with  a  lady's  fan."  Again  :  he  writes  of  "  a 
dilemma,  the  first  horn  of  which  would  be  sufficient  to 
toss  and  gore  any  column  of  patient  readers,  though 
drawn  up  sixteen  deep."  Fortunate  is  it  for  the  future 
of  the  English  language  that  -he  did  not  tax  it  with  a 
description  of  the  other  horn.  Yet  you  will  observe 
that  no  personal  ill-will  is  expressed  in  these  invectives, 
no  anger,  no  petulance,  no  malign  hostility.  The  straii. 
of  the  style  is  jocose  rather.  Still  it  is  intoxicated  style. 
It  is  a  reckless  threshing  of  language,  in  which  you  lose 
the  sober  thought  in  its  sober  truthfulness,  and  are  only 
astounded  at  the  words. 

EXCUBSTJS. 

The  chief  use  of  the  criticisms  now  before  us  for  the 
service  of  the  pulpit  is  to  put  us  on  guard  against  ascetic 
and  vind.ictlve  preaching.     At  no  other  point  in  the 


220  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [i^bot.  xrv 

series  of  homiletic  discussions  which  are  to  come  before 
us,  can  I  more  naturally  treat  than  here  the  preaching 
of  the  doctrine  of  retribution.  Let  me  ask  you,  then,  to 
note,  in  the  form  of  excursus  from  the  topic  immediately 
in  hand,  some  thoughts  on  the  weakness  of  intemperate 
strength  in  certain  methods  of  discourse  upon  eternal 
punishment. 

1.  Observe,  first,  that  descriptions  of  the  condition 
of  lost  souls  are  powerless  for  good  if  they  result  in  the 
painting  of  savage  pictures.  One  of  Titian's  rules  of 
coloring  was,  that  only  a  small  part  of  the  canvas 
should  ever  be  in  deep  shade,  no  matter  how  somber 
the  subject.  Even  in  the  engraving  of  a  death-scene, 
the  major-part  should  be  in  light  shading,  or,  at  most, 
in  mezzotint.  The  same  is  true  of  the  painting  of 
despair  by  speech.  Excess  of  gloom  may  blur  all 
impression.  The  denunciatory  language  of  the  Scrip- 
tures  may  be  so  used  as  to  be  weak  in  proportion  to 
its  severity.  Ringing  changes  upon  the  biblical  words 
"  hell,"  "  damnation,"  "  eternal  death,"  "  everlasting 
punishment,"  may  be  devoid  of  the  biblical  energy 
through  mere  dislocation.  Expanding  in  order  to  in- 
tensify the  biblical  emblems  of  perdition,  such  as  "fire," 
"hell-fire,"  "brimstone,"  "lake  of  fire,"  "the  worm  that 
dieth  not,"  may  be  so  executed  as  to  express  fury,  not 
energy.  For  salutary  impression  it  may  be  the  most 
useless  of  all  discourse. 

2.  The  early  English  pulpit  needs  to  be  studied  with 
precaution,  because  it  was  so  generally  infected  with  this 
error.  Even  Jeremy  Taylor,  whose  sense  of  beauty  was 
often  a  solvent  of  images  of  terror,  yet  was  often  over 
borne,  by  his  imaginings  of  a  lost  state,  into  representa- 
tions which  seem  to  our  modern  taste  brutal.  They  are 
impressive  only  as  theatrical  illusions.    The  moral  and 


txar.  XIV.]  VINDICTIVE  PREACHING.  221 

the  sensuous  elements  in  them  are  in  inverse  propor- 
tions to  each  other.  M.  Angelo's  painting  of  the  Last 
Judgment  indicates  that  the  English  pulpit  of  Jeremy 
Taylor's  time  had  inherited  this  sensuous  taste  from  pre- 
ceding ages.  That  painting  leaves  on  the  mind  of  the 
spectator,  as  its  ultimate  impression,  a  densely  packed 
mass  of  human  limbs  and  faces  in  all  conceivable  varie- 
ties of  physical  contortion.  Its  hideous  anatomy  is  its 
most  marvelous  characteristic.  As  a  painting,  it  may 
deserve  the  enthusiasm  of  artists ;  but,  as  a  spiritual  ex- 
pression, it  is  neither  forcible  nor  true.  Yet  such  was 
the  taste  in  which  the  English  pulpit  of  the  subsequent 
century  was  trained. 

An  example  of  some  of  the  best  preaching  of  our 
English  fathers  in  this  respect,  I  find  in  the  sermons  of 
one  Henry  Smith,  who  bore  the  title  of  "  Lecturer  at 
Clement  St.  Dane's,"  and  was  contemporary  with  Jeremy 
Taylor.  His  theme  is  the  "  Woe  of  Eternal  Remorse." 
He  discourses  thus :  "  Who  can  express  that  man's  hor- 
ror but  himself  ?  Sorrows  are  met  in  his  soul  at  a  feast. 
Fear,  thought,  and  anguish  divide  his  soul  between 
them.  All  the  furies  of  hell  leap  upon  his  heart  a£ 
upon  a  stage.  Thought  calls  to  fear ;  and  fear  whistleth 
to  horror ;  and  horror  beckoneth  to  despair,  and  saith, 
'  Come  and  help  me  to  torment  this  sinner.'  One  saith 
that  she  cometh  from  this  sin ;  another  saith  that  she 
Cometh  from  that  sin :  so  he  goeth  through  a  thousand 
deaths,  and  can  not  die."  We  may  admire  this  as  an 
antique  specimen  of  art :  it  may  have  had  value  in  its 
day.  But  would  a  modern  copy  of  it  in  an  American 
pulpit  be  even  a  curiosity  ?  Would  it  not  start  anew 
the  discussion  of  a  second  probation  ? 

Another  example  is  selected  from  a  sermon  by  Bishop 
Latimer.      He  often  preached  literally  "  with  a  yen- 


222  ENGLISH    STYLE.  [lect.  xr» 

geance."  The  following  occurs  near  the  close  of  one  of 
his  discourses  :  "  Will  ye  have  Jesus  Christ  ?  What  say 
ye  ?  Speak  now  —  now  or  never.  See,  sinners !  I  offei 
you  the  Lord.  Will  you  accept  him  "^  Ah,  poor  Christ ! 
Must  he  go  a-begging?  Out,  j-e  hard-hearted!  What 
will  Christ  sa}''  when  he  comes  to  judge  you?  Ill  tell 
you  what  he'll  do.  Pie  will  bind  you  in  bundles,  and 
burn  you.  He  will  say,  '  Here  is  a  bundle  of  drunk- 
ards :  Devil,  take  them.  Here  is  a  bundle  of  liars : 
Devil,  take  them.' " 

We  must  not  scorn  this  as  a  piece  of  scenic  display. 
Men  who  go  to  the  stake  for  their  faith  do  not  sport 
with  it  in  theatrical  illusions.  Such  preaching  may  not 
have  been  powerless  in  rude  times,  and  among  a  people 
who  were  familiar  with  the  strolling  theaters  of  England. 
That  was  a  scenic  age.  Theatrical  entertainments  were 
one  method  of  intellectual  teaching.  The  very  gro- 
tesqueness  of  the  picture  drawn  by  Latimer  may  not 
have  aroused  then  the  sense  of  the  ludicrous.  To  a 
rude  taste  the  grotesque  heightens  the  terrific.  Some 
of  the  most  vivid  scenes  in  Dante  and  in  Milton  are  at 
first  only  repulsive ;  but  an  infusion  of  the  unnatural 
into  other  elements  of  descriptive  painting  intensifies 
the  impression  of  the  whole  as  a  work  of  art.  By  a 
people  of  a  ruder  age,  art  in  the  pulpit  may  not  have 
been  detected  as  such,  and  criticised  unfavorably.  Lati- 
mer may  therefore  have  produced  a  powerful  impression. 
We  must  suppose  this,  to  account  for  the  fact  that  the 
authorities  feared  him,  and  the  people  obej'ed  him.  The 
world  does  not  burn  imbeciles  for  their  opinions.  But 
is  it  difficult  to  imagine  huw  a  modern  imitation  of 
Latimer's  appeal  would  be  received  by  an  American 
audience  ? 

Have  you  not  listened  to  sermons  on  retribution,  not 


LECT.  XIV.]  ENERGY   IN   RESEEVE.  223 

SO  graphic  as  this  sketch  from  Latimer,  which  impressed 
you  as  merciless?  Have  you  not  heard  comitinatory 
preaching  which  was  sheer  declamation  ?  You  could 
not  believe  that  the  preacher  had  any  real  appreciation 
of  the  truth  he  proclaimed.  He  fumed  and  stormed  and 
roared,  because  he  had  no  adequate,  or  even  inadequate, 
conception  of  the  infinite  fact  he  was  uttering.  I  hope 
there  is  less  of  such  preaching  now  than  formerly.  I 
have  never  heard  it  from  an  educated  preacher.  If  you 
have  heard  it,  was  it  effective  ?  Did  you  feel  it  ?  Did 
others  seem  to  feel  it?  I  doubt  even  the  indurating 
effect  of  such  discourses.  Men  are  not  hardened  by 
that  which  they  do  not  feel  at  all.  I  have  seen  men 
sleeping  under  such  sermons  as  soundly  as  they  ever  did 
in  their  cradles.  I  have  seen  young  people  flirting,  and 
children  playing  bo-peep,  while  such  discourse  was  in 
progress ;  and  they  were  at  least  as  usefully  employed 
as  the  preacher,  for  I  never  saw  an  audience  religious- 
ly moved  by  such  preaching.  It  was  "  sound  and  fury, 
signifying  nothing." 

3.  The  most  vital  human  element  in  the  preaching 
of  retribution  is  the  calmness  of  suppressed  emotion. 
Force  in  reserve,  suggesting,  not  parading,  itself,  is  the 
true  power  of  such  discourse.  This  mental  self-posses- 
sion should  be  expressed  in  both  style  and  manner. 
Such  a  mental  state  is  the  inevitable  result  of  the  moral 
emotions  which  are  becoming  to  the  preaching  of  that 
doctrine.  What  are  those  emotions?  Obviously  they 
are  balanced  opposites.  Confidence  in  the  evidences  of 
retribution,  awe  at  the  fact  of  retribution,  complacenc/ 
in  the  justice  of  retribution,  compassion  for  the  soul  in 
peril  of  retribution,  and  adoration  of  God  in  the  hiflic- 
tion  of  retribution,  —  these  are  the  central  moral  exer- 
cises which  should  characterize  the   preach hig   of  the 


224  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  xrr 

doctrine.  Co-existing,  they  must  qualify  and  limit  each 
other.  They  must  produce  a  self-constrained  sense  of 
the  reality  which  can  not  express  itself  ferociously  any 
more  than  it  can  do  so  flippantly.  A  savage  style  is 
impossible  to  a  preacher  who  has  such  a  conception  of 
the  doctrine  as  that  represented  in  the  vision  of  St. 
John  in  the  Revelation.  A  tempestuous  delivery,  also, 
is  inconceivable  under  such  conditions. 

4.  To  no  other  doctrine  is  elocution  so  vital  as  to  that 
of  eternal  punishment.  It  should  never  be  vociferated : 
still  less  should  it  be  delivered  theatrically.  Its  deliv- 
ery should  be  the  expression  of  an  awestruck  and 
broken  spirit.  It  should  be  preached  as  one  would  talk 
it  in  private  to  one's  dearest  friend.  In  its  best  forms 
it  is  not  premeditated.  It  is  the  involuntary  outpour- 
ing of  a  full  soul.  "  My  heart  shall  cry  out  for  Moab," 
says  Isaiah,  at  the  height  of  prophetic  denunciation. 
The  comminatory  style  of  prophecy  is  often  restrained 
by  such  refluent  waves  of  sympathy  with  the  doomed 
ones.  So  should  all  retributive  preaching  be  relieved 
by  outbreaks  of  personal  compassion  from  the  heart  of 
the  preacher.  This  will  inevitably  fuse  the  hardness, 
and  soften  the  belligerence,  of  the  delivery.  Never 
should  the  pulpit  seem  to  be  the  throne  of  an  avenging 
angel. 

The  force  of  comminatory  preaching  should  be  the 
still  force.  The  calm,  tense  nerve  of  William  Tell  in 
aiming  at  the  apple  on  the  head  of  his  son  is  a  symbol 
of  the  energy  which  should  send  the  arrow  of  such 
preaching  quivering  to  its  mark.  The  self-possession  of 
the  pilot  who  sat  down  with  the  weight  of  his  own  life 
on  the  safety-valve,  as  his  only  hope  of  holding  his 
vessel  off  the  breakers,  is  an  emblem  of  the  suppressed 
and  awestruck  power  with  which  we  should  prcclaim 


tECT.  XIV.]  COMMINATOIIY  ELOCUTION.  225 

the  damnation  of  souls.  Such  will  be  the  manner  of 
preachers  who  really  feel  their  own  words  in  disclosing 
an  eternal  hell.  The  consciousness  of  personal  concern 
with  the  truth  he  utters  will  press  the  preacher's  soul 
down  to  the  verge  of  awestruck  silence,  which  nothing 
but  the  command  of  God  would  induce  him  to  break. 

There  is  something  profoundly  symbolic  of  a  great 
preacher  in  the  reluctance  of  Moses  to  speak  at  all  as 
the  leader  of  God's  people.  That  was  indicative  of  a 
great  heart.  He  had  overwhelming  conceptions  of 
truth.  His  faith  had  seen  God  in  the  burning  bush. 
To  his  inmost  soul  God  was  a  consuming  fire.  Such 
should  be  the  mental  habit  of  one  who  would  preach  an 
eternal  retribution.  How  can  such  as  he  speak  such  a 
truth,  otherwise  than  in  low  and  gentle  tones  ?  How 
can  he  rant  about  it  ?  How  can  he  gabble  it  to  men 
who  are  no  more  exposed  to  it  than  himself?  He  must 
proclaim  it,  if  at  all,  with  the  sympathy  of  a  fellow- 
sinner  breathing  in  his  words,  and  thrilling  in  his  tremu- 
lous hands,  and  modulating  his  tones,  and  melting  in 
his  eye.  By  no  other  manner  can  he  represent  Baxter's 
model  of  "  a  dying  man  speakihg  to  dying  men." 

No  other  than  this  still  preaching  of  retribution  is 
ever  really  felt  by  an  audience.  Vociferation  on  such 
a  subject  does  not  move  men ;  declamation  does  not. 
The  manner  which  approaches  most  nearly  to  no  man- 
ner at  all  is  the  one  to  which  men  open  their  hearts. 
Hearers  may  be  nervously  stimulated  by  raiiting  com- 
mination.  So  they  may  be  by  a  drum.  But  even  that 
they  cease  to  feel  when  its  novelty  is  gone.  When  that 
excitement  subsides,  declamation  of  retributive  woe 
ceases  to  be  even  interesting.  It  has  never  gone  deeper 
than  the  tympanum  of  the  ear.  Men  sleep  under  it  as 
under  the  fall   of   a  mill-stream.      Wide-awake    men 


226  ENGLISH   STYLE.  I'tBCT.  xrr. 

deride  it :  it  becomes  the  butt  of  scoffers,  a?  it  deserves 
to  be  ;  for  there  is  nothing  in  it  which  is  either  godlike 
or  humane. 

5.  The  still  elocution  is  the  one  which  we  instinc- 
tively associate  with  the  comminatory  preaching  of 
Christ.  From  no  other  lips  have  ever  proceeded  such 
revelations  of  eternal  woe  as  those  of  the  Man  of 
Sorrows.  His  is  the  model  of  retributive  discourse  for 
all  ages.  It  is  the  "  wrath  of  the  Lamb  "  which  we  are 
commissioned  to  preach.  Yet  who  thinks  of  Lim  as  a 
stentorian  preacher  ?  Who  imagines  him  as  a  declaimer 
in  the  twenty-third  chapter  of  St.  Matthew?  Well  do 
painters  represent  him  as  gesturing  with  the  open  palm, 
or  with  the  monitory  finger  pointing  skyward.  Is  there 
in  the  galleries  of  Italy  a  solitary  picture  in  which  he 
appears  gesturing  with  the  fist  ?  Who  believes  that  he 
ever  pounded  the  desk,  if  he  had  one  in  the  synagogues 
of  Judaea?  or  that  he  stamped  his  foot  in  divine  anger, 
or  wriggled  his  shoulders,  or  rivaled  the  bulls  of  Bashan 
in  his  intonations?  To  him  we  owe  the  most  terrific 
emblems  of  eternal  woe  ever  put  into  human  speech. 
But  who  conceives  of  him  as  dwelling  on  those  emblems, 
as  if  he  reveled  in  them  ?  Who  ever  dreams  of  him  as 
mouthing  them  with  theatrical  emphasis  ?  Do  we  not 
think  rather  of  his  low  and  solemn  tones,  his  sitting 
posture,  his  stooping  form,  his  still  or  tremulous  hands, 
his  melting  eye,  and  the  nameless  ways  in  which  the 
wail  of  agonized  expression  would  call  to  its  aid  every 
feature  and  member  of  the  worn  body  in  bearing  his 
message  of  doom  to  the  doomed  ones  ?  Every  word  of 
denunciation  that  he  ever  uttered  brings  with  it  to  our 
ears  the  echo  of  his  lamentation  over  Jerusalem.  Such 
is  all  genuine  preaching  of  retribution.  Thus  men 
always  preach  it  when  they  are  in  earnest.     The  more 


L£CT.  XIV.]  EMBLEMS   OF   KETRIBUTION.  227 

nearly  it  resembles  the  gentleness  of  jur  Lord,  the  more 
profoundly  do  men  feel  it,  and  say  of  it,  "  Never  man 
spake  like  this  man." 

EXCURSUS. 

At  this  point  our  discussion  naturally  opens  the  way 
to  a  collateral  question,  which  the  drift  of  opinion,  and 
the  taste  of  the  age,  obtrude  upon  our  attention.  Let 
us  consider,  in  the  form  of  a  second  excursus  from  the 
topic  in  hand,  the  inquiry.  Ought  the  biblical  emblems 
of  eternal  punishment  to  be  employed  by  the  modern 
pulpit  ?     Three  facts  seem  conclusive  in  answer. 

1.  One  is,  that  we  have  no  evidence  that  any  thing 
else  than  those  emblems  can  express  so  truthfully  to 
embodied  mind  the  facts  of  retributive  experience  in 
eternity. 

Modern  ideas  of  the  range  of  a  physical  resurrection 
have  suffered  some  damage.  We  often  restrict  it  to  the 
future  of  the  redeemed.  That  the  bodies  of  the  lost 
are  also  raised  is  dropped  out  of  the  conception  often 
entertained  of  their  immortality.  Must  not  this  be  re- 
garded as  one  of  the  devices  by  which  the  human  mind 
evades  the  vividness  of  unwelcome  truth  ?  It  is  natu- 
ral to  close  our  eyes  to  a  flash  of  lightning.  So  do  we 
instinctively  welcome  any  eyelid  which  shall  help  us  to 
blink  the  reality  of  everlasting  pains.  We  spiritualize 
them.  We  wrap  them  in  philosophic  thought.  Say 
what  we  may  of  this  process  as  designed  to  intensify 
our  conception,  it  produces  no  such  effect  on  the  ma- 
jority of  minds.  Even  to  the  best  of  us  in  our  average 
moods,  that  which  we  feel  at  the  ends  of  our  fingers  is 
more  real  to  us  than  an  abstract  thouglit.  Is  not  a 
grain  of  sand  in  your  eyeball  more  prcfoundly  real  to 
you  than  the  transit  of  Venus  ?     So,  by  remanding  our 


228  ENGLISH   STYI.E.  [lect.  xr? 

thought  of  retribution  to  the  realm  of  mind  alone,  we 
in  fact  please  ourselves  with  the  dignity  of  our  theology 
at  the  expense  of  its  reality. 

We  have  no  warrant  for  this  restricted  acceptance  of 
A  bodily  resurrection.  If  the  bodies  of  the  righteous 
are  to  live  again,  analog}^,  as  well  as  revelation,  should 
lead  us  to  believe  the  same  of  the  bodies  of  the  wicked. 
Both  are  to  be  "  clothed  upon."  Where,  then,  is  the 
hope  of  deliverance  for  the  wicked  from  that  law  of  the 
divine  government  by  which  the  body  symbolizes  in  its 
experience  the  moral  condition  of  its  spiritual  habitant  ? 
The  drift  of  sin  is  to  physical  suffering.  Moral  deprav- 
ity tends  always  to  a  corrupt  and  tortured  body.  Cer- 
tain diseases  are  the  product  of  certain  crimes.  The 
whole  catalogue  of  human  pains,  from  a  toothache  to 
angina  pectoris^  is  but  a  witness  to  a  state  of  sin  expressed 
by  an  experience  of  suffering. 

Carry  this  law  into  the  experience  of  eternal  sin,  and 
what  have  we  ?  A  spiritual  body,  reduplicated,  it  may 
be,  in  its  capacities  for  suffering,  yet  inhabited  and  used, 
and  therefore  tortured  by  a  guilty  soul ;  a  body  per- 
fected, it  may  be,  in  its  sensibilities,  inclosing  and  ex- 
pressing a  soul  matured  in  its  depravity.  By  all  the 
analogies  we  know  of  touching  the  relations  of  body  to 
spirit,  what  else  than  the  scriptural  emblems  of  retri- 
bution can  express,  even  to  the  utmost  stretch  of  our 
imagination,  the  facts  of  a  state  of  eternal  guilt  ? 

2.  Again :  it  is  a  fallacy  that  the  modern  mind  does 
not  need  the  physical  symbols  of  retribution  to  impress 
the  fact.  Some  things  the  world  can  not  outgrow. 
Among  these  is  the  dependence  of  embodied  mind  on 
pictorial  representations  of  spiritual  truth.  Even  if 
culture  does  relieve  a  fragment  of  the  race  from  some 
formfi  of  this  dependence,  it  has  no  such  effect  on  the 


fJSOT.  XIV.]  PICTORIAL   EXPRESSION. 

vast  majority  of  mankind.  They  remain,  as  all  ages 
have  found  them,  wedded  to  material  images  of  unseen 
things.  Why  is  it  that  we  shrink  from  such  images  of 
eternal  pain  ?  Is  it  for  any  other  reason  than  that  they 
do  'orand  the  facts  upon  our  vision  as  no  other  device  of 
expression  can  ?  The  majority  of  men  are  children  in 
their  love  of  pictures.  Why  are  pictorial  newspapers 
regarded  as  an  advance  of  triumphant  journalism  ? 

It  is  not  true  that  culture  changes  essentially  this 
dependence  of  mind  on  sight  for  its  most  vivid  concep- 
tions of  truth.  Said  a  judge  of  the  Supreme  Court  of 
the  United  States,  in  a  critique  on  the  American  pulpit, 
"I  want  abstract  truth  pictured  to  my  eye."  Culture 
and  rudeness  alike  crave  the  emblem.  A  sight  of  the 
cathedral  at  Cologne  for  five  minutes  gave  to  Sir  Chris- 
topher Wren  a  conception  of  architecture  which  a  life- 
time of  theoretic  study  could  not  have  created.  The 
most  gifted  minds  are  not  in  this  respect  essentially  dif- 
ferent from  yours  or  mine.  A  sailor  before  the  mast  is 
their  equal  and  ours  in  his  dependence  on  a  sight  of  the 
Bay  of  Naples  for  his  most  truthful  conception  of  marine 
beauty.  We  all  crave  the  teaching  of  the  eye.  Have 
we  not  some  conceptions  which  we  never  had  before  the 
stereoscope  was  invented  ? 

Many  of  the  retributive  devices  of  human  law  are 
founded  on  this  dependence  of  the  human  mind  (m 
physical  impressions  of  spiritual  ideas.  Capital  punish- 
ment can  not  be  vindicated  on  other  grounds.  It  is 
a  scenic  exhibition  of  human  justice.  On  the  same 
ground,  an  English  judge  has  recently  advocated  the 
restoration  of  the  scourge  as  a  penal  instrument  for 
certain  crimes ;  not  because  other  punishments  are  not 
commensurate  with  their  guilt,  but  because  other  pun- 
ishments make  no  adequate  moral   impression  on  the 


230  ENGLISH  STYLE  Ilect   xr» 

senses  of  the  criminal,  or  on  the  imagination  of  cthei 
men.  He  contends  that  wife-murder  can  not  be  extir 
pated  from  England  by  other  means. 

This  relation  of  spiritual  ideas  to  the  physical  expres* 
sions  of  them  lies  very  deep  in  all  retributive  govern- 
ment. The  world  has  not  outgrown  it,  and  never  can. 
It  is  one  of  the  ingrained  laws  of  embodied  mind.  Hence 
the  biblical  emblems  of  eternal  woe  can  never  be  spared 
from  the  resources  of  the  pulpit.  The  last  age  of  the 
world  will  need  them  as  profoundly  as  the  first.  They 
may  be  abused :  they  often  are  abused  in  ways  for  which 
there  is  no  decent  authority,  divine  or  human.  The 
literature  of  the  pulpit  contains  in  this  respect  specimens 
which  are  worthy  only  of  savages.  But  these  emblems 
can  not  on  this  account  be  wisely  disused.  The  desire 
of  the  pulpit  and  the  demand  of  the  pew  for  their  disuse 
are  alike  evidences  of  an  insurrection  of  the  human 
heart  against  the  truth  which  they  express.  We  lean 
to  an  abandonment  of  the  symbol,  because  our  effemi- 
nate faith  revolts  from  the  thing. 

3.  We  have  no  evidence  that  the  scriptural  emblems 
of  retribution  were  originated  for  transient  use  only. 
They  bear  no  signs  of  a  temporary  purpose.  They  were 
not  peculiarities  of  an  ancient  dispensation.  They 
reached  their  most  lurid  grandeur,  not  under  Jewish, 
but  under  Christian  teaching.  No  inspired  hint  is 
given,  that  they  are  destined  to  outlive  their  usefulness. 
They  resemble  nearly  all  the  personal  utterances  of  our 
Lord  in  the  fact  that  they  have  the  look  of  ultimate 
revelations. 

The  most  significant  fact  about  these  emblems  is  their 
authorship.  The  believing  world  is  awed  by  the  fact 
that  they  were  utteied  by  Him.  No  other  threatenings 
of  future  woe  in  the  Scriptures  equal  these  coals  of  fire 


LECT.  XIV.]  THREATENINGS   OF   CHRIST.  231 

fiom  his  lips.  It  seems  as  if,  for  some  occult  design,  all 
other  inspired  oracles  held  back,  and  spoke  with  half- 
suppressed  voices,  that  the  most  overwhelming  denun- 
ciations of  the  wrath  of  God  might  break  upon  the 
world  with  his  authority.  "Was  there  not  such  a  design? 
Was  there  not  a  far-seeing  purpose  in  this  obeisance  of 
all  other  inspiration  on  this  theme  to  his?  Does  it  not 
look  like  a  foresight  of  the  rebellion  of  the  human  heart 
through  coming  ages  against  the  truth  which  these  em- 
blems portray.  Does  it  not  look  as  if  God  meant  thus 
to  forestall  and  to  silence,  through  all  time,  the  insur- 
gent clamors  of  mankind  to  be  eased  from  the  pressure, 
of  that  truth  upon  the  conscience  ? 

If  God  intended  that  this  doctrine  should  die  out  iu 
the  ultimate  stages  of  human  faith,  should  we  not  expect 
to  find  some  intimations  of  that  intent  in  the  teachings 
of  Christ?  If  he  meant,  in  some  golden  age  of  the 
future,  to  lift  the  world  to  a  high  table-land  of  refine- 
ment, on  which  the  lurid  gleams  of  hell  could  be  safely 
put  out  like  a  spent-fire  which  has  done  its  work,  and  is 
no  longer  needed,  should  we  not  reasonably  look  for 
premonitory  hints  of  that  purpose  in  the  personal  revela- 
tions of  our  Lord?  Where  should  we  look  for  some 
recondite  foregleams  of  that  latest  glory,  if  not  to  the 
dying  confidences  of  the  Master  with  his  disciples  ?  In 
his  teachings  on  other  subjects  we  do  find  such  seed- 
thoughts,  prophetic  of  truth  to  be  revealed.  We  find 
principles  which  are  ultimate.  We  find  finished  forms 
of  truth,  beyond  which  the  world's  wisdom  can  go  no 
farther,  but  which  lay  all  coming  ages  under  tribute. 
We  find  oracles  which  seem  to  bend  forward,  and  wait 
for  the  coming  generations,  ready  and  eager  to  respond 
to  their  last  inquiries.  We  find  elemental  maxims, 
"hard  sayings"  in  the  time  of  their  utterance,  which 


232  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [lect    xn 

lay  dormant  for  centuries,  apparently  because  they  were 
designed  for  final  uses  in  the  world's  maturity.  We 
find  a  Being  whose  very  life  was  a  future,  and  whoso 
person  was  a  prophecy. 

It  is  in  the  very  midst  of  such  a  galaxy  of  truths 
that  we  find  these  supreme  disclosures  of  the  eternal 
wrath  of  God.  How,  but  in  one  way,  can  we  interpret 
this  ?  How,  but  to  one  purpose,  can  we  understand  the 
fact  that  our  Lord  says  not  one  syllable,  from  first  to 
last,  which  softens  the  retributive  teachings  of  the  elder 
Scriptures  ?  He  retracts  not  one  word,  dilutes  not  one 
threatening,  abrogates  not  one  penal  sanction,  eases  not 
one  pang  of  coming  retribution,  and  never  hints  that 
the  benignity  of  God  requires  any  such  relaxing  of 
eternal  justice.  More  than  this :  it  is  Se  who  intensi- 
fies all  previous  disclosures  of  the  penalties  of  sin.  It 
is  He  who  unrolls  on  lurid  canvas  these  appalling  pic- 
tures of  the  judgment  and  the  after-world  of  despair. 
It  is  Se  who  exhausts  the  forces  of  human  speech  on 
this  theme,  so  that  all  later  wisdom  stands  dumb. 
What  else  can  this  mean  than  that  God  intended  in  the 
very  person  of  Christ  to  confront,  in  advance,  the  drift 
of  the  human  heart  on  this  subject,  and  to  tone  iip  the 
world's  faith  to  God's  own  thought  of  retribution  ? 


LECTURE  XV. 

PREACHING  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  SIN.  — MEANS  PF  ENERQl 
COMMON  TO  LITERAL  AND  FIGURATIVE  LANGUAGE. 

Energy  of  style  as  affected  by  self-possestiion  in  the 
act  of  composing  leads  us  to  consider,  at  some  risk  of 
too  remote  digression,  a  third  excursus^  on  the  danger 
of  convulsive  strength  in  preaching  on  the  doctrine  of 
sin.  The  following  varieties  of  this  defect  deserve 
attention :  — 

1.  The  theory  of  depravity  is  often  intemperately 
expressed,  to  the  detriment  of  a  sense  of  its  reality  in 
the  mind  of  the  hearer.  This  is  a  theme  on  which  more 
depends  on  rhetorical  form  than  on  scientific  exactness 
of  statement.  The  theory  of  inherited  guilt,  for  in- 
stance, so  long  as  it  is  restricted  to  scholastic  forms  of 
statement,  may  do  no  harm,  because  it  is  not  taken  in 
by  the  hearer,  and  felt  to  be  a  reality.  But  let  that 
theory  be  projected  vividly  in  the  style  by  the  ordinary 
means  of  forcible  expression,  and  it  becomes  impotent 
for  any  purpose  of  salutary  impression,  because  it  pro- 
duces revolt  of  the  common  sense  of  men.  Nobodj' 
believes  it,  and  nobody  can. 

2.  Denunciations  of  organized  forms  of  sin  are  often 
weak  through  intemperate  energy.  The  world  has  yet 
much  to  learn  of  the  philosophy  of  reform.  On  the 
subject  of  human  servitude,  for  instance,  it  is  not  the 
iinmit-'gated  and  reckless  tone  of  rebuke  commonly 
adopted  by  professional  reformers  which  achieves  suc- 

233 


234  ENGLISH    STYLE.  [lect,  xv. 

cess.  It  has  not  been  so  in  our  own  history.  The 
national  conscience  never  responded  to  the  diatribes 
which  were  the  chief  utterances  of  the  "abolitionists," 
technically  so  called.  An  undercurrent  of  distrust  held 
the  nation  back  from  the  storm  of  abuse  by  which 
they  sought  to  overwhelm  American  slavery.  Ultimate 
history  will  make  a  different  record  from  that  which 
appears  to  be  written  now.  When  the  philosophy  of 
reform  comes  to  be  better  understood,  it  will  be  seen 
that  the  power  which  lifted  the  national  conscience,  and 
consolidated  it  against  the  national  sin,  was  the  temper- 
ate and  balanced  testimony  of  the  American  Church. 

All  that  frantic  and  vituperative  reform  achieved  was 
to  substitute  passions  for  principles.  The  consequence 
was  a  volcanic,  instead  of  a  pacific,  overthrow  of  the 
wrong.  The  masses  of  the  people,  especially,  never 
adopted  the  policy  of  infidel  reformers  in  that  crisis  of 
our  history.  They  went  into  the  final  conflict  reluc- 
tantly. The  Christian  theory  of  reform  commanded 
their  confidence,  and,  if  let  alone,  would  have  carried 
them  to  a  bloodless  victory. 

The  world  has  yet  to  appreciate  in  full  the  supremacy 
of  spiritual  over  material  forces  in  the  treatment  of 
organic  wrongs.  We  have  yet  to  give  full  weight  to 
the  superiority  of  silent  over  tumultuous  revolutions. 
We  have  yet  to  comprehend  the  worth  of  temperate  as 
compared  with  intoxicated  opinion.  We  have,  there- 
fore, yet  to  realize  the  ascendency  of  the  calm,  self- 
collected  utterances  of  souls  moved  by  God's  Spirit 
over  the  corrosive  and  often  malign  teachings  of  pro- 
fessional reformers.  Until  these  lessons  are  learned  by 
heart,  the  world  must  advance  by  paroxysms,  in  place 
of  those  tranquil  changes  in  which  Christianity  imitatea 
nature  in  the  most  blessed  and  permanent  of  her  opera 
tions. 


LECT.  XV.]  INTEMPERATE  REPROOF.  235 

The  Christian  pulpit  should  give  expression  to  this 
riew  in  the  style  it  adopts  in  the  tieatment  cf  organ- 
ized forms  of  sin.  Vituperation  in  such  discourse  ia 
not  power.  Frenzied  discussion  never  settles  any  thing. 
Malign  denunciation  never  carries  conviction  in  the  end. 
The  real  power  of  the  pulpit  in  such  national  contro- 
versies does  not  lie  in  silence,  indeed ;  but  neither  does 
it  lie  in  passionate  debate.  Its  real  power  is  the  power 
oi  temperate  opinion,  expressed  in  guarded  and  bal- 
anced speech,  and  specially  in  fidelity  to  spiritual  prin- 
ciples and  the  use  of  spiritual  resources.  So  Christianity 
has  always  spoken  against  organic  wrong  when  it  has 
been  successful. 

3.  Descriptions  of  individual  guilt  also  often  suffer 

from  intemperate  expression.     The  Rev.  Mr.  M , 

a  Methodist  preacher  of  great  distinction  twenty  years 
ago,  once  described  the  guilt  of  a  gambler  by  a  stento- 
rian delivery  of  this  invective :  "  He  would  rattle  the 
dicebox  on  the  grave  of  his  father,  and  stake  his  salva- 
tion on  the  threshold  of  hell."  Well,  perhaps  he 
would.  But  saying  it  thus  does  not  convict  him,  nor 
give  to  others  any  very  vivid  "coQception  of  his  guilt. 
If  we  could  see  the  thing  done  as  composedly  as  we 
listen  to  such  a  description  of  it,  it  would  do  very  little 
to  deter  us  from  the  crime.  John  Foster  says  that  such 
preaching  "  resembles  a  false  alarm  of  thunder :  a  sober 
man,  not  wont  to  be  startled  by  sounds,  looks  out  to  sec 
if  it  be  not  the  rumbling  of  a  cart." 

4.  Reproofs  of  the  inconsistencies  of  Christians  are 
often  powerless  through  excess  cf  severity.  Said  one 
thoughtful  man  of  the  world,  "  Judging  by  the  tone 
of  the  pulpit,  I  should  suppose  that  you  Christians  are 
the  worst  men  living."  Intemperate  rebuke  leaves  be- 
hind it  a  malign  impression.     That  Is  never  powerful 


•J36  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [ubct.  xt 

rebuke  of  good  men,  which  is  founde  I  on  an  ascetic 
tlieoiy  of  the  Christian  life.  The  most  renowned  sati- 
rists have  not  aimed  at  an  ascetic  reproof,  even  of  vice. 
Critics  have  remarked  how  much  Juvenal's  satires  gain 
from  his  good  nature.  Artists  say  that  Hogarth's 
satirical  paintings  are  made  doubly  impressive  by  the 
hitroduction  of  children.  Thackeray's  criticism  of  the 
fashionable  life  of  London  is  saved  from  cynicism,  only 
by  his  obvious  good  feeling.  One  principle  runs  through 
all  these  examples :  it  is  that  the  power  of  rebuke  is 
augmented  by  kindly  expression.  The  same  principle 
should  pervade  the  addresses  of  the  pulpit  to  infirm 
believers.  Unmitigated  reproof  is  never  powerful,  be- 
cause it  is  never  true.  It  is  not  addressed  to  unmiti- 
gated guilt. 

5.  A  word  here  deserves  attention,  upon  the  physi- 
ognomy of  the  preacher.  Ascetic  impression  is  often 
made  in  condemnatory  preaching,  by  unconscious  sever- 
ity of  countenance.  We  express  more  than  we  mean, 
because  our  faces  speak  beyond  our  words. 

"  Oh,  wad  some  power  the  giftie  gie  us 
To  see  cursels  as  others  see  us  1 " 

It  is  the  misfortune  of  some  preachers  that  \hey  have 
stem  faces.  Children  are  afraid  of  them.  By  dint  of 
hard  labor  and  trouble  and  sickness  and  self-distrust, 
they  have  acquired  hard  features,  which  redouble  the 
severity  of  reproof  from  their  lips.  That  which  is  called 
"  faithful  preaching  "  must  therefore  be  often  measured 
by  the  sense  wliich  uncontrollable  habits  of  lip  and  brow 
will  put  into  it.  A  chronic  scowl  may  make  simple 
earnestness  express  misanthropy.  A  means  of  useful- 
ness which  is  worth  a  lifelong  culture  of  benignant  feel- 
ing and  cheerful  thoughts  is  a  beaming  countenance. 


LECT.  XV.]  MORBID   CONFESSIONS   OP   SIN.  237 

For  the  want  of  this,  reprimand  from  the  pulpit  may 
become  a  philippic. 

6.  The  intemperate  style  sometimes  infects  and  wea- 
kens confessions  of  sin.  St.  Paul  knew  himself  to  have 
been  guilty  of  persecuting  the  church  of  Christ.  It  was 
not  intemperate  in  him  to  call  himself  the  "  chief  of 
sinners."  Such  confession  from  such  a  man  did  no 
violence  to  his  conscience  or  his  common  sense.  But  it 
does  not  follow  that  all  converted  men  can  properly  use 
that  language  of  themselves.  Not  only  is  it  untrue,  but 
it  expresses  an  intoxicated  working  of  conscience  which 
the  good  sense  of  other  men  repels. 

Passages  are  extant  in  some  religious  diaries  which 
ought  never  to  have  been  written,  still  less  exposed  to 
the  public  eye.  They  express  the  weakness  of  a  dis- 
torted conscience.     The  Rev.  Dr. on  one  occasion 

wrote  thus  in  his  diary  (I  quote  it  from  memory)  : 
"  It  has  seemed  to  me  to-day  that  my  depravity  is  more 
profound  than  that  of  Satan  himself."  Soon  afterwards 
he  entered  this  confession :  "  At  a  recent  date  I  re- 
corded that  my  depravity  seemed  to  me  more  profound 
than  that  of  Satan.  To-day  I  "feel  like  asking  pardon 
of  Satan  for  making  the  comparison."  We  speak  and 
think  tenderly  of  a  good  man  who  has  been  tempted  in 
a  moment  of  weakness  into  such  humiliation.  But  does 
the  confession  give  us  any  very  powerful  conception  of 

sin?     Who  believes  it  of  Dr. ?    Who  accepts  it  as 

a  becoming  model  of  confession?  Who  sympathizes 
with  it  as  a  manly  experience  which  we  ought  to  have 
any  desire  to  imitate?  Such  a  confession  expresses  a 
hysteric  paroxysm  of  conscience,  not  its  healthy  and 
vigorous  working. 

Returning  now  from  these  excursus,  it  should  be  re- 


238  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  xV 

marked,  further,  that  tlie  popidar  taste  and  Christian 
experience  often  conflict  with  each  other  in  the  recep- 
tion of  the  intemperate  style.  Although  it  produces  on 
the  popular  mind  no  salutary  impression,  some  forms  of 
t  do  create  a  theatrical  interest.  Here  lies  the  tempta- 
tion to  the  indulgence  of  it.  It  gratifies  a  craving  for 
coarse  stimulus.  It  entertains  the  sensuous,  and  often 
the  malign  emotions,  as  a  species  of  scenic  acting.  This 
will  be  the  more  apt  to  occur  if  such  preaching  is  ac- 
companied with  a  passionate  delivery.  I  suspect  that 
this  theatrical  interest  was  the  character  of  the  effect 
produced  on  Dr.  Franklin  by  the  preaching  of  White- 
field,  who  often  indulged  in  intemperate  speech.  The 
real  weakness  of  it  morally  is  often  concealed  by  the 
illusion  of  a  dramatic  effect.  A  preacher  is  tempted  to 
yield  to  a  popular  taste  of  this  kind,  because  it  insures 
to  him  a  hearing. 

A  very  significant  fact,  therefore,  should  be  allowed  to 
come  to  the  rescue  of  his  good  sense :  it  is,  that  the  drift 
of  Christian  experience  is  vigorously  averse  to  the  theat- 
rical craving.  That  drift  is  perceptible  in  proportion 
to  the  depth  of  the  experience.  The  holiest  minds  have 
no  such  craving.  With  intellectual  culture,  or  without  it, 
the  ultimate  result  is  nearly  uniform.  One  of  the  first 
evidences  which  the  people  of  Kilmany  detected  of  the 
spiritual  revolution  in  the  character  of  Dr.  Chalmers 
was  that  the  vehemence  of  his  delivery  was  moderated. 
A  similar  effect  is  sometimes  seen  in  revolutions  of  style. 
A  deepening  of  religious  tone  moderates  extravagances 
of  utterance.  Have  you  not  observed  this  in  the  prayers 
and  exhortations  of  the  conference-meeting?  Have  you 
not  known  the  presence  of  the  Holy  Spirit  t )  be  indi 
cated,  apparently,  by  chastened  tones  of  voice,  by  tem- 
perate expressions  of  truth,  by  charitable  judgments  of 


tBOT.  XT.]  SEVERITY  IN  PREACHING.  239 

character,  by  style  and  manner  indicative  of  gentle  sur- 
prises, as  if  new  views  of  truth  were  opening  upon  the 
vision?  Have  we  not  learned  to  judge  of  the  purity 
and  depth  of  religious  awakenings  by  a  certain  balance 
of  character  and  stillness  of  workins:? 

Such  facts  bear  with  great  force  on  the  philosophy  of 
preaching.  They  suggest  that  the  most  profound  coii- 
ceptions  of  truth  tend  always  to  a  state  of  repose.  The 
interest  they  excite  is  the  interest  of  equalized  sensibili- 
ties. Symmetry  of  emotion  results  from  intensity  at 
many  points.  In  such  a  stage  of  Christian  culture 
there  is  a  remote  resemblance  to  the  serenity  of  the 
mind  of  God. 

The  style  of  the  pulpit,  therefore,  it  should  be  remem- 
bered, has  a  natural  expression  for  this  mature  experi- 
ence of  truth.  That  expression  is  never  passionate. 
Its  chief  characteristic  is  its  simplicity.  It  is  apt  to 
choose  language  rather  for  what  it  suggests  than  for 
■what  it  expresses.  It  is  full  of  thought,  puts  life  into 
dead  words,  gives  hints  of  many  truths  in  its  way  of 
representing  one,  makes  opposite  truths  illuminate  each 
other,  indulges  in  contradictions  which  are  more  truth- 
ful than  truisms,  puts  the  hearer  on  the  track  of  dis- 
covery, invites  an  intense  but  self-collected  delivery, 
and  leaves  at  last,  in  its  best  examples,  a  sense  of  still- 
ness like  the  repose  indicated  by  the  deepest  soundings 
of  the  sea.  Have  you  not  listened  to  such  preaching, 
at  least  in  fragments  of  sermons  ?  Have  you  not  read 
such  passages  in  the  literature  of  the  pulpit?  Do  you 
not  find  them  in  the  writings  of  St.  John  ? 

Recognize  the  fact,  then,  that  the  most  intense  energy 
of  expression  is  realized  in  the  style  here  described, 
and  that,  if  a  preacher  will  command  it  by  thought 
which  needs  it,  he  may  depend  on  a  response  to  it  from 


240  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lbct.  x\ 

the  Christian  culture  of  the  pew.  Preach,  therefore, 
your  best  thoughts  to  your  best  hearers,  let  the  popular 
craving  be  what  it  may.  Preach  the  best  experience 
you  find  in  you  to  the  best  experience  you  find  around 
you.  You  can  not  be  disappointed  in  the  result.  You 
will  often  be  sensible  of  silent  responses,  which  will  be 
the  witness  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

II.  We  have  thus  far  considered  energy  of  style  as 
having  its  foundation  in  the  state  of  a  writer's  mind  in 
the  act  of  composing.  "We  now  advance  to  regard  it  as 
assisted  by  certain  means  which  are  common  to  the  literal 
and  the  figurative  uses  of  language. 

1.  Of  these,  several  relate  to  the  words  of  a  discourse 
considered  singly.  And  first,  energy  is  promoted  by 
the  use  of  pure  words.  Purity  of  style  assists  energy, 
partly  because  it  assists  perspicuity,  but  more  directly 
because  it  tends  to  make  style  intelligible  at  the  moment 
of  its  utterance.  Labyrinthine  style  tends  to  feeble 
impression.  Slow  evolution  of  the  meaning  is,  for  that 
reason,  weak.  But  rapidity  in  a  hearer's  discovery  of 
thought  enlivens,  and  therefore  enforces,  thought.  This 
is  the  working  of  a  pure  English  vocabulary.  The  force 
of  it  is  augmented  by  the  silent  sympathy  of  a  hearer 
with  his  vernacular  tongue.  That  which  energy  adds 
to  perspicuity  is  chiefly  movement  of  the  sensibilities  of 
hearers  by  the  aid  of  their  imagination.  Of  this  power, 
vernacular  style  must  be  the  chief  medium  ;  and  the 
most  perfect  vernacular  is  the  purest  English. 

On  a  similar  principle,  energy  is  augmented  by  the 
preponderance  of  a  Saxon  vocabulary.  The  strength  of 
a  Saxon  style  has  become  one  of  the  truisms  of  litera- 
ture. "  Saxon  "  is  a  synonj'm  of  "  strong."  It  is  wor- 
thy of  remark,  that  public  speakers  often  talk  Saxon 
who  do  not  write  it,  nor  employ  it  predominantly  in 


LECT.  XV.]  STYLE   OF   DR.   JOHN'SONv  241 

public  addi  ess.  A  man's  colloquial  style  often  dibcloses 
his  Saxon  birthright,  when  a  Latinized  dialect  prevaik 
in  his  continuous  discourse.  This  is  sometimes  the  ex- 
planation, in  part,  of  the  fact  that  a  preacher  produces 
more  impression  by  his  extemporaneous  than  by  his 
written  discourses.  It  is,  that,  in  extemporaneous  dis- 
course, he  speaks  as  he  talks ;  and  he  talks  Saxon.  His 
extemporizing  is  thus  homely,  as  distinct  from  stately 
speech.  It  is  speaking  home  to  the  sympathies  of  hear- 
ers. A  stereotyped  criticism  on  a  bookish  speaker  is, 
"  Y"ou  should  speak  more  as  you  talk."  This  means,  in 
part,  "  Use  more  liberally  a  Saxon  vocabulary." 

Perhaps  the  most  remarkable  illustration  in  literary 
history  of  the  contrast  between  extemporaneous  and 
written  styles  is  found  in  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson.  John- 
son the  conversationalist  and  Johnson  the  essayist  were 
two  diiferent  men.  In  writing  he  was  a  Latin  slave:  in 
conversation  he  was  a  Saxon  prince.  Short,  crisp,  blunt 
monosyllabic  words  abounded  in  his  colloquial  style  ; 
and  such  words  in  our  language  (those,  at  least,  which 
are  naturally  used  colloquially)  are  almost  all  Saxon. 
Dr.  Johnson  ruled  English  letters  in  his  day  mainly  by 
what  he  talked,  not  by  what  he  wrote.  His  fame  grew 
out  of  what  we  speak  of  as  the  Johnson  Club.  Gold- 
smith, Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Edmund  Burke,  and  Bos- 
well  knew  him  at  his  best,  because  they  heard  him  talk. 
In  our  own  day  his  works  are  little  read.  If  he  could 
have  respected  his  Saxon  vocabulary  enough  to  havs 
made  it  the  warp  of  his  written  style,  his  works  might 
have  lived  another  century  beyond  us.  But  no:  he 
could  talk  Saxon,  but  he  must  write  Latin.  The  ghost 
of  Cicero  haunted  him  when  he  took  to  his  pen.  His 
first  conception  of  a  thought  was  commonly  in  Saxou 
forms ;  and  he  then  deliberately  set  to  work,  as  other 


242  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  XT 

sophomores  have  done,  to  translate  it  into  an  English 
mimicry  of  the  Ciceronian.  Macaulay  has  made  you 
familiar  with  amusing  instances  of  this. 

Every  preacher  may  find  it  worth  his  while  to  search 
his  own  colloquial  style,  to  see  if  he  has  not  already 
at  his  command  there  resources  of  Saxon  vigor  which 
he  is  not  using  in  his  public  speech,  but  which  are  per- 
f  3ctly  pure,  racy  English,  and  therefore  as  well  fitted  to 
public  speech  as  to  the  table-talk. 

Yet  the  claims  of  a  Saxon  style  must  be  qualified. 
Lord  Brougham  lays  down  the  rule,  to  which  in  theory 
he  makes  no  exception,  "  Always  prefer  the  Saxon 
word."  But  in  practice  he  constantly  disregarded  the 
rule,  as  every  writer  will  do  who  indulges  much  in  con- 
templative or  philosophic  thinking.  The  Greek  and 
Latin  importations  into  our  language  are  indispensable 
to  such  thinking.  They  are  more  varied  and  more  pre- 
cise than  the  words  of  Saxon  stock.  We  are  safe  in 
saying,  that  a  Saxon  vocabulary  should  be  chosen  when 
strength  of  style  is  the  chief  quality  which  the  thought 
demands.  But  often  the  thought  requires  not  so  much 
strength  as  precision.  Then  the  Saxon  must  give  place 
to  the  Latin  or  Greek  derivative.  The  thought,  again, 
may  require  beauty  or  pathos  of  expression.  Then  one 
instinctively  chooses  the  word  which  is  capable  of  melli- 
fluous utterance;  and  that  most  surely  is  not  the  Saxon 
word.  For  some  conceptions  a  sensitive  writer  will 
long  for  a  liquid  dialect  like  the  Tuscan.  But  such 
qualifications  leave  the  general  principle  intact,  that  a 
Saxon  vocabulary  is  a  strong  vocabulary.  It  should, 
therefore,  predominate  in  the  expression  of  strength 
of  thought. 

Energy  of  style  is  further  augmented  by  the  use  of 
specific  words.     "  Thou  art  my  rock,"  "  my  fortress,' 


LECT.  xv.J  SPECIFIC    AND    SHORT   WORDS.  243 

"  my  tower,"  "  my  shield,"  "  my  buckler."  Why  does  the 
Psalmist  use  these  specific  emblems,  instead  of  saying, 
"  Thou  dost  preserve  me,"  "  protect  me,"  "  befriend 
me  "  ?  It  is  because  the  specific  quality  of  the  symbols 
gives  reality  to  the  thought  by  their  appeal  to  the  ima- 
gination. In  like  manner,  the  Scriptures  discourse  upon 
tlie  two  future  worlds,  heaven  and  hell.  Rarely,  if  ever, 
does  the  Bible  present  these  as  states  of  being,  and 
never  as  qualities  of  character.  The  inspired  thought 
conceives  of  them  as  places :  the  inspired  style  therefore 
paints  them  as  things.  It  describes  persons  in  them. 
Heaven  is  a  city,  a  country,  a  building,  mansions  ;  music 
is  there ;  harps  are  there,  crowns,  palms,  robes,  rivers, 
thrones,  gates,  walls.  So  the  Bible  represents  hell  as 
a  place  of  fire,  a  lake  of  brimstone,  prepared  for  the 
Devil.  Its  population  is  personal.  Employ  these  rep- 
resentations as  we  may  theologically,  they  involve 
the  secret  of  a  very  vital  force  in  preaching  on  such 
themes.  The  scriptural  type  of  preaching  on  the  future 
worlds  is,  in  the  main,  not  didatic,  it  is  picturesque. 
The  force  of  it  is  due  largely  to  the  specific  element  in 
the  style. 

Energy  is  still  further  promoted  by  the  abundant  use 
of  short  words.  Run  over  in  your  minds  such  syno- 
nyms as  these  :  "wish  and  desire,  breadth  and  latitude, 
joy  and  felicity,  sure  and  indubitable,  height  and  alti- 
tude, law  and  regulation,  guess  and  conjecture."  Are 
we  not  sensible  of  a  difference  in  the  force  of  these 
words,  which  is  due  almost  wholly  to  tlieir  diversity 
in  length?  The  chief  defect  in  the  vocabulaiy  of  Dr. 
Chalmers  is  the  preponderance  of  long  over  shoit  words. 
Vigor  of  expression  often  depends  on  surprises  in  thought, 
and  therefore  on  quick  turns  in  style.  There  it  said  to 
be  even  a  painful  force  in  the  strokes  of  the  wing  of  a 


244  ENGLISH   STYLE.  rLECT.  xt 

humming-bird,  arising  from  the  almost  inconceivable 
rapidity  of  their  succession.  Force  in  stj-le  may  be  due 
to  a  similar  cause ;  but  a  style  in  which  long  words 
greatly  preponderate  can  have  no  quick  f,trokes  in  ut- 
terance. The  intent  of  the  author  is  often  disclosed 
prematurely.  The  plot  of  a  sentence,  if  I  may  use  the 
figure,  is  detected  before  it  is  ripe. 

Analyze  your  own  sentences  sharply,  and  you  will 
often  find  that  you  have,  in  the  heat  of  composition, 
written  with  unconscious  guile.  Your  style  here  and 
there  is  a  trap.  It  is  so  constructed  as  to  catch  the 
listener  in  surprises :  you  detect  in  it  a  series  of  ambus- 
cades. If,  then,  it  be  so  constructed,  by  a  large  pre- 
ponderance of  long  words,  as  to  give  the  hearer  time 
to  discover  the  catch  prematurely,  it  defeats  itself.  An 
unwieldy  style,  through  excess  of  this  long-winded 
structure,  resembles  the  movement  of  a  crocodile  in 
chasing  its  prey.  An  agile  boy,  it  is  said,  can  keep  him- 
self out  of  its  way  by  running  in  a  circle.  Recall  the 
familiar  example  which  Macaulay  gives  from  Dr.  John- 
son. Said  Johnson,  speaking  of  "  The  Rehearsal,"  a 
production  then  fresh  to  the  critics  of  London,  " '  The 
Rehearsal '  has  not  wit  enough  to  keep  it  sweet."  This 
is  brief,  quick,  Saxon  strength.  But,  after  a  pause,  he 
summoned  to  his  aid  the  dignity  of  autocratic  criticism, 
and  remarked,  "  I  should  have  said,  '  The  Rehearsal ' 
has  not  vitality  sufficient  to  preserve  it  from  putrefac- 
tion."    This  is  the  style  of  the  crocodile. 

It  needs  hardly  to  be  said  that  the  choice  of  short 
words  may  be  easily  abused.  A  style  made  up  of  mono- 
syllables would  be  the  extreme  of  affectation.  "  Rob- 
inson Crusoe "  was,  a  few  years  ago,  translated  into 
monosyllabic  words.  But  "Robinson  Crusoe"  is  ad- 
dressed to  a  juvenile   taste.      Even  children  will   not 


I.ECT.  XV.]  LACONIC   STYLE.  245 

long  patter  through  a  story  ol  that  length  in  monosyl 
labic  slippers.  The  man  must  have  been  a  wiseacre 
who  is  said  to  have  read  fifteen  pages  of  it  without  dis- 
covering that  it  was  not  the  original. 

Energy  is  also  aided  by  the  choice  of  words  whose 
sound  is  significant  of  their  sense.  "  Hiss,  rattle,  clat- 
ter, rumbling,  twitch,  swing,  sullen,  strut,"  are  speci- 
mens of  words  not  relatively  numerous  in  our  language, 
but  very  forcibly  expressive,  because  their  sound  redu- 
plicates their  sense.  Ought  onomatopoetic  words  to  be 
chosen  studiously  ?  Will  not  the  deliberate  selection  of 
them  cultivate  an  affected  energy  ?  Doubtless  it  may  do 
so ;  but  the  instinct  of  speech  has  created  such  words 
in  all  languages,  and  that  which  the  human  mind  thus 
sanctions,  literary  taste  may  wisely  select.  Why  not,  as 
well  as  other  elements  of  speech  which  carry  the  same 
authority?  They  do  not  constitute  a  sufficiently  large 
proportion  of  any  language  to  form  a  strong  temptation 
to  an  affected  use. 

2.  One  of  the  means  of  augmenting  energy  of  expres- 
sion, which  concern  both  the  literal  and  figurative  uses 
of  language,  relates  to  the  number  of  words.  It  is 
conciseness  of  style.  Conciseness  has  been  already 
considered  as  tributary  to  perspicuity  and  to  precision : 
it  is  more  conducive  to  energy  than  to  either.  It  has 
passed  into  an  axiom  in  criticism,  "  The  more  concise, 
the  more  forcible."  Many  years  ago  Kossuth,  the 
Hungarian  patriot,  in  an  address  in  the  city  of  New 
York,  expressed  the  idea  that  the  time  had  gone  by 
when  the  people  could  be  depended  on  for  their  own 
enslavement  by  standing  armies  He  compressed  it 
into  two  words.  Said  he,  "Baj-onets  think."  The 
words  caught  the  popular  taste  like  wildfire.  They  took 
rank  with  the  proverbs  of  the  language  immediately. 


246  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lEor.  XT 

The  idea  was  not  new,  but  the  style  of  it  was.  It  had 
been  floating  in  the  dialect  of  political  debate  ever 
since  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  but  never  before  had 
it  been  condensed  into  a  brace  of  words.  The  effect 
was  electric.  Millions  then,  for  the  first  time,  felt  it  as 
a  fact  in  political  history.  Within  a  month  the  news- 
papers of  Oregon  had  told  their  readers  that  bayonets 
think.  Everybody  told  everybody  else  that  bayonets 
think.  In  style  it  was  a  minid-bullet :  everybody 
who  heard  it  was  struck  by  it.  Such  is  the  force  of  a 
laconic  dialect. 

The  most  important  violations  of  conciseness  as  affect- 
ing energy  are  three.  One  is  tautology.  A  weak  style 
is  sometimes  due  to  no  other  cause  than  repetition  of 
ideas  in  varied  language.  This  is  toil  without  progress. 
A  tendency  to  tautology  was  created  in  English  style  by 
the  Norman  Conquest  of  England.  As  you  are  aware, 
from  the  time  of  "William  the  Conqueror,  the  Norman 
was  made  by  law  the  dialect  of  the  court,  Saxon  remain- 
ing the  vernacular  of  the  people.  The  usage,  therefore, 
grew  up  of  expressing  thought  consecutively  by  the  use 
of  words  from  both  dialects,  and  meaning  precisely  the 
same  thing.  In  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer,  which 
was  constructed  for  court  and  people  alike,  this  tautol- 
ogy is  still  discernible  in  such  phrases  as  "  assemble  and 
meet  together,"  "dissemble  and  cloak,"  "pure  and 
holy,"  "confirm  and  strengthen,"  "joy  and  feKcity." 
Traces  of  the  same  feature  still  exist  among  us,  espe- 
cially in  the  dialect  of  extemporaneous  prayer.  Diffuse 
writers  commonly  betray  their  di  Tuseness  in  this  yoking 
of  Saxon  and  Norman  synonyms  together. 

Do  you  not  recognize  the  following  words  in  couples 
as  having  become  standard  yokes  in  style  of  the  second 
and  third  rate?  —  "Null  and  void,  clear  and  obvious, 


IBCT,  xv.J  VERBOSE   STYLE.  247 

pains  and  penalties,  forms  and  ceremonies,  bounds  and 
limits,  peace  and  quiet,  sort  or  kind,  weak  and  feeble, 
mild  and  gentle,  just  and  righteous,  rules  and  regula- 
tions, trust  and  confidence  "  ?  Some  of  these  do  not 
illustrate  strictly  the  contrast  of  Saxon  and  Norman 
roots  ;  but,  of  these  couples,  in  every  instance  one  word 
was  familiar  to  the  Saxon  mind,  and  the  other  to  the 
Norman.  In  the  first  blending  of  the  two  dialects 
hundreds  of  such  twins  found  their  way  into  the  usage 
of  writers.  For  a  time  they  were  a  necessity.  But,  now 
that  the  two  dialects  are  welded  into  one,  such  couples 
are  no  longer  needed.  They  encumber  style  by  need- 
less synonyms.  Yet  that  usage  has  infected  the  entire 
history  of  English  diction  from  that  day  to  this.  It 
has  led  to  the  duplication  of  a  multitude  of  words  not 
distinguished  by  that  diversity  of  origin.  One  of  the 
first  acts  of  a  young  writer,  therefore,  in  the  criticism 
of  his  own  discourses,  should  be  to  examine  the  braces 
of  words,  and  see  if  they  do  not  comprise  needless 
synonyms. 

Similar  to  the  tautological  sacrifice  of  conciseness, 
and  yet  distinct  from  that,  is. verboseness.  This  occurs 
when  words  are  introduced  which  express  unimportant 
shades  of  thought.  Sentences,  the  gist  of  which  might 
be  compressed  into  half  their  length,  are  extended  to 
make  room  for  hints  which  add  a  little,  but  not  much, 
to  the  weight  of  thought.  They  do  not  add  enough  to 
compensate  for  the  increase  of  bulk  and  the  labor  of 
carriage.  Complex  sentences  are  needlessly  preferred 
to  simple  ones. 

In  poetry,  conciseness  is  thus  often  sacrificed  to  rhyme. 
Rhetorical  text-books  give  an  example  from  Dr.  John- 
son. Imitating  one  of  Juvenal's  poems,  he  commencea 
thus  — 


248  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lbot.  xt 

"  Let  observation  with  extensive  view 
Survey  mankind  from  China  to  Peru.'* 

One  critic  satirizes  this  couplet  by  saying  that  it  is  only 
expressing  in  rhyme  this  thought :  "  Let  observation 
with  extensive  observing  survey  mankind  extensively." 
Yet  the  defect  is  not  exactly  that  of  tautology:  it  ia 
a  verbose  insertion  of  minor  hints  for  the  sake  of  the 
measure. 

In  prose,  and  specially  in  inexperienced  writers,  the 
error  is  most  frequently  committed  by  piling  together 
qualifying  words  and  clauses.  Adjectives,  adverbs,  and 
adjective  and  adverbial  clauses,  if  they  do  not  add  force 
enough  to  support  them  by  their  intrinsic  worth,  must 
of  course  be  carried  by  the  rest  of  the  sentence.  They 
may,  therefore,  make  all  the  difference  between  heavy 
and  sprightly  movement.  The  more  weighty  the 
thought,  the  less  force  it  may  have,  if,  relatively  to 
the  main  idea,  it  is  a  dead  weight.  Style,  to  be  forcible, 
must  have  celerity  of  movement.  Thought  thus  borne 
on  words  must  be  capable  of  quick  utterance.  Words 
must  be  wings.  Rapid  succession,  if  coherent,  is  the 
token  of  energetic  thinking.  Thought  is  a  quick  pro- 
cess, the  most  nimble  that  we  know  of.  "  As  quick  as 
thought,"  we  say,  and  we  can  say  no  more,  to  express 
rapidity.  Energy  of  expression  must  always  convey 
that  quality  in  thought.  Yet  to  do  this  it  must  have 
buoyancy  proportioned  to  the  weight  it  carries.  With- 
out this,  we  say  of  style  that  it  drags,  no  matter  how 
solid  the  materials. 

Verboseness  is  often  the  peril  of  the  scholastic  as  op- 
posed to  the  popular  style.  A  scholar  commonly  writes 
in  retirement  and  at  his  leisure.  He  writes  imder  the 
influence  of  tastes  and  habits  which  keep  him  aloof  from 
real  life.     He  is  apt,  therefore,  to  take  his  time  for  it 


LEOT.  XV.]  SKETCHING   LN   STYLE.  249 

The  mere  sense  of  leisure  will  often  make  a  man  plod. 
He  involves,  he  complicates,  he  twists,  he  tangles  hia 
thought,  merely  because  he  has  the  time  to  do  it.  A 
pressure  from  without  which  should  crowd  him,  would 
create  force  of  style  by  compelling  him  to  quicker  move- 
ment. Dr.  Arnold  showed  a  very  keen  observation  of 
men  and  things  when  he  said  to  a  friend  who  urged  him 
to  write  more  for  the  newspapers,  "  I  can  not  write  well 
for  the  newspapers.  A  newspaper  demands  a  more  con- 
densed style  than  I  am  master  of,  such  as  only  the 
mingling  in  the  actual  shock  of  opinions  can  give  a 
man."  This  is  the  true  ideal  of  a  popular  style, —  as 
true  of  the  pulpit  as  of  tlie  editor's  chair. 

I  select  as  a  specimen  of  that  kind  of  force  which  con- 
ciseness alone  may  create  in  style,  the  following  descrip- 
tion of  China:  ''It  is  a  country  where  roses  have  no 
fragrance,  and  women  no  petticoats ;  where  the  laborer 
has  no  sabbath,  and  the  magistrate  no  sense  of  honor ; 
where  the  roads  bear  no  vehicles,  and  the  ships  have 
no  keels ;  where  old  men  fly  kites ;  where  the  needle 
points  to  the  south,  and  the  sign  of  being  puzzled  is  to 
scratch  the  heel ;  where  the  seat  of  honor  is  on  the  left 
hand,  and  the  seat  of  intellect  in  the  stomach  ;  where  to 
take  off  your  hat  is  an  insolent  gesture,  and  to  wear 
white  is  to  put  yourself  in  mourning  ;  which  has  a  litera- 
ture without  an  alphabet,  and  a  language  without  a 
grammar."  This  is  in  style  what  sketching  is  in  art. 
The  passage  contains  not  one  adverb,  only  one  adjective, 
not  one  qualifying  clause,  and  nothing  expressive  of  a 
secondary  idea.  It  reminds  one  of  national  proverbs, 
which  are  commonly  models  of  that  density  of  thought 
which  the  compressed  wisdom  of  ages  deserves.  Who 
ever  heard  of  a  long-winded  proverb? 

It  is  a  singulis  r  idiosyncrasy  sometimes  detected  in 


250  ENGLISH   STTIiB.  [lect.  xv. 

public  speakers,  that  they  are  verbose  in  the  use  of  cer- 
tain favorite  parts  of  speech.  One  has  an  iinconscious 
favoritism  for  adjectives,  another  for  adverbs,  another 
for  substantives  in  apposition.  In  manuscript  sermons 
I  have  sometimes  transformed  a  weak  style  into  a  com- 
paratively strong  one  by  running  the  pen  through  three- 
fourths  of  the  adjectives.  This  curious  phenomenon  of 
composition  deserves  to  be  remembered  in  a  preacher's 
criticism  of  his  own  discourses.  The  style  of  Rufus 
Choate,  magnificent  as  it  was  in  the  affluence  of  its 
vocabulary,  would  still  have  been  invigorated  if  it  had 
been  shorn  of  one-half  its  adjectives. 

But  the  view  here  suggested  should  be  qualified  by 
the  remark,  that  sometimes  the  qualifying  word  imparts 
a  tonic  to  the  style.  One  such  word  may  condense  the 
whole  emphasis  of  the  utterance.  De  Quincey,  descant- 
ing on  the  falsehoods  of  Pope  as  being  no  indication  of 
recklessness  of  the  feelings  of  other  people,  says,  "In 
cases  where  he  had  no  reason  to  suspect  any  lurking 
hostility,  he  showed  even  a  paralytic  benignity."  A 
half-page  of  description  could  not  so  forcibly  express 
the  sarcasm  which  is  flung  at  Pope  in  this  one  word. 

One  other  method  by  which  the  want  of  conciseness 
may  impair  energy  of  expression  is  that  of  a  needless 
circumlocution  of  thought.  Circumlocution  of  thought 
is  not  necessarily  tautological  nor  verbose.  No  more 
words  may  be  employed  than  are  needful  to  express 
thought  circuitously.  The  fault  lies  in  multiplying 
words  by  a  circumlocutory  train  of  thinking,  when  di- 
rect thinking  is  equally  good,  and,  if  so,  better,  because 
it  is  direct.  Says  Mr.  Disraeli,  in  a  speech  on  the  hus- 
tings, "  The  national  debt  is  nothing  but  a  flea-bite." 
But  in  the  House  of  Commons  he  scruples  to  repeat 
the  figure  in  its  strong,  homely  form,  but  says,  "The 


LEcr.  XV.]  CrRCTJMLOCUTORY   STYLE.  251 

national  debt  is  nothing  but  the  incision  of  the  most 
troublesome,  though  not  the  most  unpopular,  of  insects." 
Why  this  polite  euphemism  ?  Circumlocutory  thought 
displaced  directness,  and  that  made  just  the  differeace 
between  weakness  and  energv  of  diction. 


LECTURE  XVI. 

ENERGY  OF  STYLE,  CONCLUDED.  — CONSTRUCTION.  — EH» 
TORICAL  FIGURE. 

The  last  Lecture  closed  with  a  consideration  of  con- 
ciseness of  style  as  generally  tributary  to  energy.  The 
view  there  presented  is  subject  to  exceptions  in  which 
conciseness  is  the  reverse  of  energy.  Exception  occurs 
where  conciseness  is  obviously  affected.  Affectation 
of  any  thing  is  never  other  than  a  weakness.  A  friend 
of  Dr.  Johnson  died,  and  he  wrote  to  his  widow  a  note  of 
condolence,  thus :  "  Dear  madam,  oh !  "  In  less  than 
a  year  she  married  again,  and  he  wrote  a  note  of  con 
gratulation,  thus  :  "  Dear  madam,  ah  !  "  This  would 
satisfy  Lacedsemonian  taste  in  respect  to  brevity,  but 
what  is  the  effect  of  the  laconics  rhetorically  ?  Would 
the  first  note  comfort  a  disconsolate  widow?  "Would 
the  second  please  a  comforted  widow  ?  Neither.  Both 
are  extremes  of  affectation,  in  which  the  doctor  was 
thinking  of  his  very  smart  style.  No  style  is  impres 
sive  which  is  not  sincere. 

Again :  exception  obviously  occurs  where  diffuseness 
is  necessary  to  perspicuity.  For  some  audiences,  on 
some  subjects,  as  we  have  seen,  perspicuity  demands  dif- 
fuseness. In  such  cases,  energy,  of  course,  demands  the 
same.  Perspicuity  alwa3^s  lies  back  of  energy.  The  form 
of  concise  force  is  delusive  if  the  thought  is  not  clear. 
It  is  not  entirely  fair  to  criticise  an  author  by  fragments 
of  his  composition  dislocated  from  their  connections; 

2S2 


tKCT.  XVI.]  OBSCURE   CONCISENESS.  268 

but  the  following  are  examples,  which,  read  in  their 
connections,  would  still,  I  think,  represent  obscure  con- 
ciseness. They  are  taken  from  the  earlier  essays  of 
Ralph  Waldo  Emerson.  "  The  way  of  life  is  by  aban- 
donment." "  With  the  geometry  of  sunbeams  the  soul 
lays  the  foundation  of  nature."  "  I,  the  imperfect,  adore 
my  own  perfect."  "The  soul  knows  only  the  soul." 
"  The  world  globes  itself  in  a  drop  of  dew."  "  The 
great  genius  returns  to  essential  man."  "  Prayer  is  the 
spirit  of  God  pronouncing  his  works  good."  "  The  devil 
is  an  ass." 

Such  aphoristic  sentences  abound  in  the  style  of 
Emerson  in  his  early  manhood.  They  are  laconic,  but 
they  are  not  forcible.  The  question  is  not  whether 
they  convey  any  meaning,  but  do  they  convey  any  such 
force  of  meaning  as  that  professed  by  their  extremely 
laconic  form  ?  Their  compactness  promises  a  great  deal : 
does  the  reader  realize  the  promise  ?  Who  is  sure  that 
he  understands  them  ?  How  many  of  these  sage  prov- 
erbs, which  by  their  form  put  themselves  by  the  side 
of  the  apothegms  of  the  ages,  will  you  remember  in  a 
week?  Probably  none  but  the-  compliment  to  Satan, 
and  that  is  asinine  in  more  senses  than  one.  It  will 
cling  to  your  memory  rather  as  a  rude  jest  than  as  the 
utterance  of  an  axiomatic  truth. 

If  you  desire  a  "  dictionary  unabridged  "  of  specimens 
of  weakness  in  style  caused  by  obscure  conciseness,  let 
me  whisper  to  you  confidentially,  that  you  should  bor- 
row on  some  dark  night,  and  under  pledge  of  secrecy, 
from  some  very  juvenile  friend,  or  from  some  country 
tavern,  "Tupper's  Proverbial  Philosophy."  Yet  that 
book  has  found  a  hundred  thousand  buyers  I 

Exception  to  the  principle  that  conciseness  is  energy 
occurs  in  some  examples  of  descriptive  writing.     Ed- 


254  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  xvi 

mund  Burke,  II  his  speech  on  the  nabob  of  Arcot,  de- 
scribes the  effects  of  the  war  carried  on  by  the  East  India 
Company  in  the  Carnatic  territory.  An  unimaginative 
speaker,  seeing  things  in  what  Bacon  calls  "  dry  light," 
would  have  said,  "  The  war  was  a  war  of  extermina 
tion : "  this  was  the  whole  of  it.  An  indignant  and  dif- 
fusive speaker,  boiling  over  with  his  wrath,  would  have 
said,  "  The  war  was  murderous,  inhuman,  devilish." 
His  invective  would  have  spent  itself  in  epithets.  But 
Burke,  more  forcible  than  either,  compresses  his  indig- 
nation, has  not  a  word  to  say  of  the  character  of  the 
war,  but  describes  the  facts,  and  leaves  them  to  speak 
for  themselves.  He  says,  "  When  the  British  army 
traversed,  as  they  did,  the  Carnatic  for  hundreds  of 
miles  in  all  directions,  through  the  whole  line  of  their 
march  they  did  not  see  one  man,  not  one  woman,  not 
one  child,  not  one  four-footed  beast  of  any  description 
whatever."  Energy  of  thought  here  requires  particu- 
larity of  detail :  therefore  energy  of  expression  requires 
many  words. 

Sometimes  a  descriptive  speaker  needs  to  gain  time 
for  a  thought  to  take  hold  of  an  obtuse  hearer.  Macau- 
lay  says  of  the  effects  of  the  French  Revolution,  "  Down 
went  the  old  church  of  France,  with  all  its  pomp  and 
wealth."  This  is  forcible  fact  forcibly  put.  But  he 
intensifies  it  by  saying,  "  The  churches  were  closed ;  the 
bells  were  silent ;  the  shrines  were  plundered ;  the  silver 
crucifixes  were  melted  down ;  buffoons  dressed  in  sur- 
plices came  dancing  the  carmagnole,  even  to  the  bar  of 
the  Convention."  By  these  details,  time  is  gained  for 
the  imagination  to  realize  the  main  truth  that  the  church 
was  destroyed.  Longinus  illustrates  the  two  styles  hero 
contrasted  by  the  examples  of  Demosthenes  and  Cicero. 
He  says,  "  Demosthenes  was  ccncisely,  Cicero  diffusely 


LEOT.  XVI.]  ENEKGY   OF  DIFFUSENESS.  255 

sublime.  Demosthenes  was  a  thunderbolt :  Cicero  was 
a  conflagration." 

Exception  to  the  general  principle  before  us  takes 
place,  also,  in  certain  momentary  utterances  of  intense 
emotion.  Profane  men  in  a  fit  of  passion  do  not  swear 
concisely.  Intense  emotion  may  express  itself,  on  the 
spur  of  the  moment,  by  a  volume  of  words.  Passion 
heaps  words  on  words,  piles  epithet  on  epithet,  repeats 
itself  once  and  again,  and  thus  creates  in  style  that  kind 
of  energy  which  a  torrent  symbolizes.  A  volley  of 
oaths  is  the  transient  utterance  of  overwhelming  wrath. 
The  single  tremendous  oath  of  studied  force  is  the  ex- 
pression of  cool  purpose  and  self-collection.  Dignified 
discourse  sometimes  admits  a  style  which  transiently 
resembles  that  of  overpowering  passion.  Style,  then, 
does  not  condense,  but  expands  thought,  pours  it  forth 
in  a  volume  of  sound.  Words  at  best  are  but  hints. 
They  are  but  symbols  of  ideas.  The  sum  total  of  them 
is  a  symbol  as  well  as  the  units.  A  flood  of  words  may 
have  the  same  kind  of  force  as  that  of  a  flood  of  tears. 

But  is  not  this  contradictory  to  the  principle  we  have 
considered,  that  energy  demands  self-possession  ?  Yes, 
it  is  so  in  appearance,  but  not  in  fact.  I  have  said  that 
it  is  transient,  often  momentary.  Naturally  it  occurs 
in  fragments  of  discourse.  Its  brevity  is  a  sign  that  it 
involves  no  loss  of  mental  balance.  You  give  way  to 
emotion  in  it,  as  if  with  full  consciousness  that  you  do 
it  of  design,  and  that  the  ebullition  will  subside  at  your 
will.  Did  you  never  pause  in  the  street  to  watch  a 
horse  at  the  top  of  his  speed,  when  at  first  you  doubted 
whether  he  was  not  a  runaway  ?  And,  when  you  saw 
that  his  rider  had  him  well  in  ]iand,  did  not  your  first 
thought  enhance  your  sense  of  power  in  the  second? 
There  is  in  style  a  phenomenon  which  resembles  that. 


256  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  xvi. 

Speech  carried  to  the  verge  of  frenzy,  but  indulged  only 
for  the  moment,  then  reined  in,  and  used  for  a  purpose, 
becomes  an  evidence,  and  therefore  an  instrument,  of 
power.  Disorder  ruled  and  utilized  is  the  exponent  of 
superlative  power. 

3.  Not  only  does  energy  of  style  concern  words  con- 
sidered singly;  not  only  the  number  of  words;  but 
there  is  a  class  of  tributaries  to  it  which  concerns  the 
construction  of  sentences.  We  can  not  wisely  carry 
criticism  of  construction  beyond  a  few  simple  principles. 
For  the  most  part,  in  practice,  it  must  be  left  to  the 
bidding  of  the  oratorical  instinct.  But  in  written  com- 
position especially,  the  three  following  principles  of 
rhetorical  mechanism  may  be  applied  without  detriment 
to  freedom  in  composing. 

One  is,  that  emphatic  words  be  so  located  that  their 
force  shall  be  obvious.  Observe,  this  criticism  does  not 
concern  the  choice  of  emphatic  words :  it  concerns  loca- 
tion only.  The  where  is  often  more  significant  than  the 
what.  The  distinction  often  made  between  the  natural 
and  the  inverted  order  of  a  sentence  is  fallacious.  Any 
order  is  natural  which  makes  obvious  the  full  force  of 
the  language.  The  oratorical  instinct  needs  to  be  so 
trained,  that  in  practice  it  will  spontaneously  choose 
the  natural  order,  be  it  inverted  or  direct.  Yet  one 
may  deliberately  apply  this  as  one  principle  of  mechan- 
ism in  style,  that  a  sentence  should  not  commonly  end 
or  begin  with  an  insignificant  word. 

The  ending  and  the  beginning  of  a  sentence  are  the 
only  two  localities  with  which  criticism  can  consciously 
concern  itself,  in  the  act  of  composing,  without  loss  of 
freedom.  But  so  far,  conscious  vigilance  may  direct 
the  pen.  Therefore  we  should  not  end  a  sentence  with 
a  little  word,  unless  the  connection  gives  it  emphasis. 


LEOT.  XVI. J  MECHANISM  OF   SENTENCES.  257 

One  writer,  who  probably  means  no  more  than  \\ns,  lays 
down  the  rule  (so  the  text-books  tell  us)  that  a  prepo- 
sition ought  not  to  close  a  sentence.  The  most  conclu- 
sive answer  to  such  a  rule  is  the  very  form  in  which  the 
rhetorical  instinct  of  the  critic  cast  the  statement  of  it. 
He  puts  it  thus :  "  A  preposition  is  a  feeble  word  to  end 
a  sentence  with.^^  This  rule,  though  in  more  adroit 
form  of  statement,  has  long  encumbered  the  books  on 
rhetoric.  It  is  indefensible  in  any  form.  A  preposition 
as  such  is  by  no  means  a  feeble  word.  What  can  be 
finer  than  this  from  Rufus  Choate  ?  "  What !  Banish 
the  Bible  from  our  schools  ?  Never,  so  long  as  there  is 
left  of  Plymouth  Rock  a  piece  large  enough  to  make  a 
gunflint  off  "  This  is  purest  idiomatic  English.  Our 
Lord's  rebuke  to  his  disciples  is  fashioned,  in  our  trans- 
lation, on  the  same  model.  "  Ye  know  not  what  man- 
ner of  spirit  ye  are  o/."  The  old  Scotch  interrogative, 
"What  for?"  is  as  pure  English  in  written  as  in  collo- 
quial speech. 

The  prejudice  against  this  prepositional  form  of  end- 
ing grew  out  of  the  affectation  of  Latin  construction  at 
a  time  when  English  literature  was  despised,  and  noth- 
ing was  deemed  worthy  of  respect  which  was  not  of 
ancient  classic  origin.  The  true  principle,  and  the  only 
one  which  the  oratorical  instinct  can  use  in  the  act  of 
composing,  respecting  the  ending  of  a  sentence,  is  the 
one  I  have  named,  —  that  a  sentence  should  not  need- 
lessly be  ended  with  an  unimportant  word  of  any  kind. 
A  similar  rule  holds  good,  but  with  more  frequent  ex- 
ception, respecting  the  beginning  of  a  sentence.  When 
energy  of  expression  is  required,  we  should  not,  if  we 
can  avoid  it,  locate  at  the  beginning  msignificant  words. 
Certain  declarative  phrases,  such  as  "  it  is,"  "  there  is," 
are  employed  to  start  the  movement  of  sentences  when 


258  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [lect.  xvi 

often  they  are  notemphatic  :  they  are  only  mechanica* 
expedients  for  setting  the  ball  in  motion.  Among  inex- 
perienced writers,  the  word  "and"  probably  begins 
more  sentences  than  any  other  word  in  the  language. 

Important  words,  when  the  flexibility  of  style  will 
permit,  should  end  a  sentence  and  begin  it,  if  force  of 
expression  is  the  quality  demanded  by  the  thought. 
Beyond  this,  criticism  can  not,  in  my  judgment,  instruct 
the  instinct  of  the  orator,  which  is  in  every  man.  Obey 
that  instinct,  and  you  can  not  go  wrong.  The  most 
fruitful  cause  of  languid  style  is  heedless  composing. 
Writers  are  never  among  those  fortunate  architects  who 
build  better  than  they  know.  The  majority  of  us  often 
ignore  our  best  and  plainest  intuitions.  Hence  comes 
all  our  insignificance  in  speech. 

The  mechanism  of  sentences  may  assist  energy  fur- 
ther by  the  conscious  use  or  omission  of  the  conjunctive 
beginning.  I  have  just  observed  that  the  word  "  and  " 
probably  begins  more  sentences  in  the  productions  of 
inexperienced  writers  than  any  other  in  the  language. 
This  fact  gives  importance  to  intelligent  criticism  of  all 
forms  of  conjunctive  beginning.  Let  it  be  observed, 
then,  that  the  conjunctive  beginning  is  forcible  if  the 
succession  of  thought  requires  it.  Often  it  does  so. 
Something  is  needed  to  express  or  to  hint  the  fact  of 
continuity.  The  idea  of  inference,  or  of  other  sequence, 
or  of  qualification,  or  of  contrast,  is  to  the  point.  In- 
stinctively, then,  you  link  sentence  to  sentence  by 
beginning  the  second  of  two  with  "  but "  or  "  and,"  or 
an  adverbial  term  which  has  a  conjunctive  effect,  like 
"yet"  or  "nevertheless."  What  is  the  exact  force  of 
this  conjunctive  beginning  ?  It  is  to  bridge  over  the 
period  preceding.     Sometimes  energy  requires  that. 

But,  without  such  demand  of  thought,  the  conjunc 


oBOT.  XTi.]  CONJUNCxIVE  FORCE.  259 

tive  beginning  is  meaningless,  and  therefore  vapid.  Did 
you  never  bear  an  inferior  conversationalist  begin  sen- 
tence after  sentence  with  the  corrupt  formula  "  and-er  "  ? 
That  indicates  momentary  vacuity  of  mind.  The  speak- 
er is  on  the  hunt  for  something  to  say.  The  "  and-er  " 
has  no  conjunctive  force.  Not  once  in  a  score  of  times 
does  the  connection  demand  a  reminder  of  that  which 
went  before.  This  mongrel  expression  is  only  an  inter- 
jectional  expletive,  by  which  the  speaker  holds  on  to 
the  right  of  utterance  while  his  mind  is  exploring.  To 
compare  it  with  a  thing  on  a  level  with  it  in  dignity,  it 
is  like  the  travelling-bag  which  you  leave  to  represent 
you  when  you  for  a  moment  leave  your  seat  in  a  rail- 
car.  Precisely  such  is  the  needless  use  of  the  conjunc- 
tive beginning  in  written  discourse.  In  the  succession 
of  thought  it  has  no  conjunctive  force.  Therefore  style 
it  is  not.  It  is  language  not  freighted  with  sense- 
Oral  delivery  may  be  sadly  weakened  by  the  conjunc- 
tive beginning.  Punctuation  may  remedy  it  to  the  eye 
in  print ;  but,  orally  delivered,  such  sentences  lose  their 
only  sign  of  separation.  The  period  is  bridged  over 
when  you  do  not  mean  it,  and  yeur  style  runs  together. 
Two,  even  three,  possibly  four,  short  sentences,  which 
for  force  of  utterance  ought  to  be  short,  and  ought  to 
be  uttered  with  crisp  delivery,  are  stretched  into  one 
long  one  ;  made  long  by  that  most  flattering  expedient 
of  composition,  a  mechanical  coupling  of  ideas.  The 
conjunctive  beginning,  therefore,  should  be  intelligently 
used.  Use  it  when  you  mean  it.  Drop  it  when  it  is 
only  the  sign  of  vacuum.  Common  etiquette  requires 
you  to  conceal  a  yawn. 

Again :  energy  may  be  expressed  in  the  mechanical 
construction  of  style  by  the  skillful  use  of  the  periodic 
structure.     What  is  meant  by  a  rhetorical  period  ?    Re- 


260  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [lect.  xvi 

call  for  a  moment  your  collegiate  text-book.  The  period 
is  a  structure  in  which  the  completion  of  the  sense  is 
suspended  till  the  close.  The  ancient  rhetoricians  com- 
pared it  to  a  sling,  from  which  the  stone  is  ejected  after 
many  circuits.  A  loose  sentence  is  one  in  which  the 
end  might  grammatically  occur  before  the  close.  Such 
a  sentence  is  a  chain,  from  which  a  link  may  be  dropped 
from  the  end,  and  it  will  still  be  a  chain,  and  will  have 
an  end.  The  periodic  sentence  is  a  glass  ball :  to  part 
with  a  fragment  of  it  is  to  ruin  the  whole. 

One  effect  of  the  periodic  structure  is  to  throw  for- 
ward emphasis  upon  the  end.  Also,  by  the  suspense  of 
the  sense,  attention  is  claimed  till  the  close.  Further : 
the  period  satisfies  all  the  expectation  it  excites.  In  the 
act  of  attending  to  discourse,  the  mind  of  a  hearer 
always  gravitates.  Its  instinct  is  to  seek  a  state  of  rest, 
and  to  rest  at  the  first  point  at  which  rest  is  grammati- 
cally possible.  In  listening  to  the  period,  it  finds  but 
one  such  point :  in  listening  to  the  loose  construction, 
it  may  find  many.  Besides,  the  period  permits  the  dis- 
closure, to  the  hearer,  of  the  growth  of  a  thought. 
Here  lies  its  chief  advantage.  A  loose  sentence  can 
grow,  only  as  the  tail  of  a  kite  grows.  A  period  has 
symmetry:  its  parts  do  more  than  cohere;  they  are 
interdependent  and  interlocked.  The  construction  fur- 
nishes scope  for  that  visible  evolution  and  involution  of 
thought  which  constitute  the  charm  of  the  most  power- 
ful style.  Critical  description  of  this  is  very  tame. 
But  look,  for  examples,  at  the  style  of  Jeremy  Taylor, 
of  Milton's  prose-works,  and  of  Edmund  Burke.  Those 
passages  which  will  strike  you  as  the  most  eloquent  are 
the  i)assages  of  sustained,  prolonged  intercurrence  of 
ideas  by  means  of  the  periodic  mechanism. 

In   the  most  perfect  examples   of  extemporaneous 


tacrr.  xvi.J  THE  PERIODIC  ST XLE.  261 

style,  thought  actually  grows  thus  in  the  mind  of  the 
speaker.  He  does  not  know  the  whole  of  it  when  he 
commences  a  sentence.  Yet,  by  oratorical  instinct,  he 
chooses  the  broad,  circular,  periodic  inclosure ;  and  in  it 
his  mind  careers  around  and  across,  gathering  its  mate- 
rials as  it  goes.  To  the  hearer  that  process  of  invent- 
ing thought  is  made  visible,  yet  without  suggesting  the 
weakness  of  after-thought.  I  am  stretching  criticism 
to  the  verge  of  uselessness  by  attempting  description  of 
this  process,  but  you  will  recognize  the  reality  in  the 
best  of  your  reading.  A  certain  loftiness  of  imagina- 
tive thinking  can  not  be  expressed  without  a  skillful 
and  free  use  of  the  periodic  structure.  Short,  dense, 
antithetic  sentences  will  not  do  for  it.  Many  are  mas- 
ters of  these  who  can  not  command  the  other.  Dr. 
South  could  not.  If  he  had  been  able  to  do  it,  he  would 
have  been  a  more  genial  critic  of  Jeremy  Taylor. 

Once  more :  the  periodic  style  assists  energy  of  ex- 
pression by  a  certain  roundness  of  construction  which 
is  favorable  to  dignity  of  delivery.  Difficult  of  execu- 
tion though  it  be,  and  requiring  certain  physical 
resources  which  few  possess  in  their  perfection,  when 
well  matched  by  a  grand  physique,  in  person,  voice, 
attitude,  and  gesture,  it  carries  every  thing  before  it. 
The  Rev.  R.  S.  Storrs,  D.D.,  of  Brooklyn,  is  an  example 
of  a  speaker  whose  physique  and  elocution  invite  the 
use  of  the  periodic  style ;  and  he  often  employs  it  with 
great  power. 

But  it  should  be  observed,  as  a  balance  to  the  view 
here  given,  that  the  periodic  structure  may  be  abused. 
Scarcely  any  other  mechanism  of  style  invites  abuse  so 
fascinatingly  as  this.  Inordinately  used,  it  may  impair 
energy  in  three  ways.  One  is  by  an  artificial  stateliness. 
The  following,  from  Mr.  Hallam,  will  illustrate   this: 


262  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  xw 

"  The  mystical  theology,  which,  from  seeking  the  illu 
minating  influence  and  the  piercing  love  of  Deity,  often 
proceeded  onward  to  visions  of  complete  absorption  in 
his  essence,  till  that  itself  was  lost,  as  in  the  East  from 
whence  this  sj^stem  sprung,  in  an  annihilating  panthe- 
ism, had  never  wanted  and  can  never  want  its  disciples." 
It  would  be  diflScult  to  find  in  the  language  a  feebler 
sentence  than  this  written  on  a  serious  theme.  Its 
flaccidity  of  style  is  due  entirely  to  the  extreme  of  the 
rhetorical  period.  In  style,  as  in  manners,  ease  must 
temper  stateliness. 

Abuse  of  the  period  may  impair  energy  also  by  a  slov- 
enly crowding  of  the  language.  I  can  not  more  briefly 
express  the  point  of  this  criticism  than  by  recalling  to 
you  a  familiar  one  from  De  Quincey  on  the  defective- 
ness of  German  construction.  The  construction  which 
is  indigenous  to  the  German  mind  is  the  ideal  realized 
of  this  abuse  of  the  period.  De  Quincey  writes  of  it 
thus :  "  Every  German  regards  a  sentence  in  the  light 
of  a  package  .  .  .  into  which  his  privilege  is  to  crowd 
as  much  as  he  possibly  can.  Having  framed  a  sentence, 
therefore,  he  next  proceeds  to  pack  it ;  which  is  effected 
partly  by  unwieldy  tails  and  codicils,  but  chiefly  by 
enormous  parenthetic  involutions.  Qualifications,  limi- 
tations, exceptions,  illustrations,  are  stuffed  and  violently 
rammed  into  the  bowels  of  the  principal  proposition. 
That  all  this  equipage  of  accessories  is  not  so  arranged 
as  to  assist  its  own  orderly  development,  no  more  occurs 
to  a  German  as  any  fault  than  that  in  a  package  of 
carpets  the  colors  and  patterns  are  not  fully  displayed. 
To  him  it  is  sufficient  that  they  are  there^  You  doubt- 
less recognize  the  original,  in  this  caricature,  of  many 
Bentencf  s  in  the  writings  of  Kant. 

Abuse  of  the  period,  furthermore,  impairs  energy  in 


LBCT.  XVT.]  FORCE  OF  IMAGERY.  263 

oral  address  by  rendering  a  forcible  delivery  impossible. 
In  either  form,  that  of  excessive  stateliness  or  that  of 
slovenly  crowding,  impressive  elocution  is  beyond  the 
reach  of  art.  Try  it.  Could  you  deliver  ■well  three 
pages  of  Sir  Thomas  Browne  ?  Could  you  preach  im- 
pressively one  of  Kant's  sentences,  covering  an  octavo 
page,  and  packed  at  that?  You  must  chant  the  one, 
and  mouth  the  other.  In  adopting  the  resonant  peri- 
odic structure,  a  preacher  should  see  to  it  that  the 
passage  be  so  adjusted  as  to  deliver  well.  We  must 
sacrifice  an  excellence  in  written  style,  if  it  is  not  also 
an  excellence  in  oral  speech.  A  daring  exploit  is  it 
under  some  conditions,  to  speak  the  period  at  all.  A 
double-bass  voice  in  an  auditorium  whose  acoustic  pro 
portions  put  in  a  claim  for  a  hearing  of  its  own  wiU 
doom  any  specimen  of  the  periodic  style  to  ridicule. 

III.  Thus  far,  energy  of  style  has  been  treated  as 
depending  on  the  state  of  a  writer's  mind  in  the  act 
of  composing,  and  as  depending  on  certain  tributaries 
which  are  common  to  both  the  literal  and  the  figurative 
uses  of  language.  It  remains  now  to  consider  it  as  re- 
lated to  certain  means  which  afe  peculiar  to  figurative 
speech. 

Of  these  should  be  first  recalled  those  principles  con- 
cerning imagery  which  were  named  as  essential  to  per- 
spicuity. In  treating  that  branch  of  our  general  subject, 
the  chief  causes  of  obscurity  in  style  were  mentioned, 
and  discussed  at  length.  They  were,  incongruous  image- 
ry, mixed  imagery,  learned  imagery,  excess  of  imagery, 
and  the  absence  of  imagery.  We  need  not  traverse 
the  same  ground  again  any  farther  than  to  observe  that 
the  same  causes  may  render  style  feeble  which  render  it 
obsc  ire.  Indeed,  they  may  do  so,  by  making  it  ob- 
6cui"e.     Any  thing  that  blurs  a  thought  deadens  its  force 


264  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [likt.  xvi 

Good  taste  is  even  more  sensitive  to  the  force  of  imagery 
than  to  its  clearness. 

The  little  that  needs  to  be  said  beyond  this  will  re- 
call to  you  your  collegiate  text-books.  I  might  be  well 
content  with  a  general  reference  to  them,  if  it  were  not 
for  certain  suggestions  of  a  professional  character  which 
will  not  be  found  there.  Two  preliminaries  here  will 
prevent  misconception.  One  is,  that  figure  in  speech 
is  not  confined  to  imagery  strictly  so  called.  Construc- 
tion in  style  admits  of  figure.  This  is  what  the  books 
mean  when  they  enumerate  "  figures  of  rhetoric."  A 
sentence  by  its  very  structure  may  be  figurative  when  its 
words  are  not  so.  By  an  occult  sense,  style  may  be  made 
figurative  when  its  words  are  as  literal  as  the  alphabet. 
Irony,  for  instance,  is  one  of  the  "  figures  of  rhetoric." 

The  other  preliminary  is,  that  the  object  of  naming 
these  "figures  of  rhetoric"  is  not  to  facilitate  a  me- 
chanical use  of  them.  The  use  of  them  ought  not 
to  be  mechanical.  Criticism  which  should  make  them 
so  would  be  worse  than  useless.  Moreover,  criticism  is 
useless  in  assisting  the  invention  of  these  figures  of 
speech.  The  invention  must  come  from  the  instinct  of 
an  excited  mind,  or  it  can  not  be  at  all.  The  most  that 
criticism  can  do  is  to  confirm  the  oratorical  instinct  in 
the  use  of  such  resources,  and  to  guard  against  abuses 
of  them.  We  may  therefore  pass  rapidly  over  them, 
remarking  only  such  hints  as  may  subserve  the  tasteful 
and  forcible  use  of  them  in  the  pulpit. 

1.  The  instinct  of  oratory  numbers  among  its  sim- 
plest figures  of  rhetoric  the  climax.     Climactic  ^  order 

1  I  coin  the  word  "  climactic,"  on  the  ground  of  its  regularity  of 
structure,  like  that  of  "eclectic,"  "mystic,"  "hysteric,"  "ictic,"  etc., 
and  chiefly  on  the  ground  of  the  absolute  necessity  of  it  to  the  fullness 
of  the  language.  Many  writers  use  it,  ignoring  the  fact  that  usage  haa 
»ot  yet  established  ii  beyond  dispute. 


tKOT.  XVI.]  ANTITHETIC   STYLE.  265 

itself  expresses  an  idea,  —  that  of  rise  in  thought.  It  ia 
a  symbol  of  cumulation,  and  cumulation  of  thought  is 
force.  In  few  expedients  is  the  skill  of  a  writer  more 
constantly  put  in  unconscious  requisition  than  in  this  of 
the  pertinent  use  of  the  cumulative  structure.  In  the 
order  of  adjectives,  of  adverbs,  of  verbs,  of  substantives, 
of  clauses,  a  choice  is  practicable,  which  commonly  cli- 
max should  determine.  You  are  heedless  of  the  instinct 
of  oratory,  if  you  say,  "  he  was  beloved  and  respected," 
instead  of  saying,  "he  was  respected  and  beloved," 
unless  the  "respect"  in  question  is  the  point  which 
needs  enforcement.  Would  you  say,  "  he  had  a  good 
conscience  and  a  Roman  nose  "  ?  Why,  then,  reverse 
the  order  of  climax  in  any  energetic  speech?  Climax 
reversed  is  one  form  of  burlesque.  A  succession  of 
tapering  sentences,  advancing  from  the  greater  to  the 
less,  makes  one  feel  as  if  one  were  sitting  on  an  inclined 
plane.  By  confusion  of  order,  proceeding  from  greater 
to  less  and  from  less  to  greater  in  succession,  style  may 
seem  to  make  a  zigzag  movement. 

2.  The  instinct  of  forcible  utterance  recognizes  the 
energy  of  antithesis  in  style.  Antithetic  structure  ex- 
presses an  idea, — that  of  contrast.  Contrast  itself  is 
force.  De  Quincey  supposes  the  whole  structure  of  the 
"  Paradise  Lost "  to  rest,  as  a  work  of  art,  on  a  designed 
multiplication  of  contrasts.  That  which  some  have 
charged  to  the  pedantry  of  Milton  he  claims  to  be  the 
effect  of  a  lurking  antagonism  of  effects.  The  intro- 
duction of  architecture  into  pandemonium,  and  again 
into  paradise,  he  vindicates,  not  by  any  law  of  historic 
probability,  but  simply  by  the  law  of  imagination,  which 
invents  and  delights  in  reciprocal  collision  of  ideas. 

It  is  this  intrinsic  energy  of  contrast  which  inclines 
deep  feeling  to  express  itself  in  contradictions.      St. 


266  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lectt.  xvi 

Paul,  with  no  oratorical  theory  about  it,  pours  out  Ida 
profound  experience  in  forms  which  are  false,  yet  which 
deceive  nobody :  "  Sorrowing,  yet  always  rejoicing ; 
dying,  yet  we  live ;  having  nothing,  yet  possessing  all 
things."  What  is  the  secret  of  this  language  from  De 
Bray,  the  Huguenot  martyr  ?  —  "  These  shackles  are 
more  honorable  to  me  than  golden  rings :  when  I  hear 
their  clank,  methinks  I  listen  to  the  music  of  sweet 
voices  and  the  tinkling  of  lutes."  Contrast  promotes 
force,  also,  by  augmenting  conciseness.  Contrast  saves 
words.  Of  two  contrasted  ideas,  each  is  a  mirror  to  the 
other ;  and  a  mirror  gives  you  vision,  instead  of  words. 
Pithy,  condensed  sayings,  which,  because  of  their  force, 
pass  into  proverbs,  and  live  for  ever,  commonly  take 
the  antithetic  form.  The  majority  of  the  proverbs  of 
Solomon  are  of  the  antithetic  structure. 

3.  The  intuition  of  the  orator  recognizes  the  interro- 
gation as  a  tribute  to  energy  in  style.  Few  expedients 
of  speech  so  simple  as  this  are  so  effective  in  giving 
vigor  to  style.  A  sermon  comparatively  dull  may  be 
made  comparatively  vivacious,  and  so  far  forcible,  by  a 
liberal  sprinkling  of  interrogatives.  Is  a  declarative 
utterance  of  a  truth  tame  ?  Put  it  as  an  inquiry.  Ask 
a  question  which  implies  it,  and  the  silent  answer  may 
be  more  impressive  to  the  hearer  than  any  words  of 
yours.  Does  an  antithetic  expression  disappoint  you? 
Try  the  mark  of  interrogation.  Put  it  to  the  hearer 
as  if  he  must  sharpen  it  by  a  response.  I  do  not  mean 
that  this  is  to  be  put  on  mechanically,  but  that  you 
should  throw  your  own  mind  into  the  mood  of  colloquy. 
Smgle  out  one  man  in  your  audience,  and  talk  with  him. 
Jeremiah  Mason,  who  contested  with  Daniel  "Webster 
the  headship  of  the  Boston  bar,  used,  in  addressing 
juries,  to  single  out  one  man  in  the  jury-box,  the  man 


LECT.  x-.!.]  ENTERROGATIVE   S'  YLE.  267 

of  dullest  look,  of  immobile  corjitenance,  who  went 
to  sleep  most  easily,  and  then  directed  his  whole  plea  to 
him,  keeping  his  eye  upon  him  till  the  man  felt  that  he 
was  watched,  and  that  the  counsel  had  business  with 
him.  That  kind  of  impression  can  often  be  wrought 
into  your  style,  and  made  to  come  out  of  it  again  to 
the  one  hearer  whom  it  is  aimed  at.  The  effect  of  that 
mental  change  in  you  will  be  magical.  The  style  which 
was  humdium  becomes  alive,  because  you  have  come  to 
life.  The  thought  springs,  because  you  spring.  There 
is  no  mechanism  about  it:  it  is  an  honest  expression 
of  a  new  force  within  you. 

Observe  briefly  the  philosophy  of  the  interrogative. 
It  makes  a  hearer  active  in  the  reception  of  a  truth. 
The  chief  craving  of  the  majority  of  worshipers  is  for 
something  to  do :  hence  the  popularity  of  congrega- 
tional singing  and  of  liturgic  responses.  An  interroga- 
tive style  in  the  sermon  produces  a  similar  effect.  An 
interrogation  is  an  appeal :  an  appeal  invites  silent  re- 
joinder. Did  you  never  see  a  hearer's  lips  move,  or  his 
head  nod  or  shake,  in  answer  to  an  interrogation  from 
the  preacher  ?  Again :  interrogation  is  an  expression  of 
confidence.  It  is  a  bold  utterance,  and  therefore  force- 
ful. The  instinct  of  earnest  speech  does  not  put  doubt- 
ful opinions  into  the  interrogative  style.  If  we  doubt, 
we  do  not  give  the  hearer  a  chance  to  reply,  even  silent- 
ly :  therefore  we  say  our  say,  but  ask  no  questions. 
This  is  the  instinct  of  keen  oratory.  Interrogation  is 
the  electric  wire  which  carries  from  speaker  to  hearer 
the  sign  of  vivid  conviction.  Hence  arises  the  popular- 
ity of  interrogatives  among  earnest  talkers.  The  common 
people,  when  roused,  spring  to  the  interrogative.  Men 
scold  in  interrogatives.  T'lis  is  only  the  vulgar  counter- 
part of  the  same  feature  in  the  philippics  of  Demosthenes. 


i268  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [user,  xvt 

Further :  the  interrogative  style  invites,  yes,  com- 
mands, an  animated  delivery.  He  must  be  a  remarkable 
speaker  who  for  an  hour  in  succession  can  deliver  well 
declarative  sentences  without  an  interrogative  break. 
No  matter  how  weighty  nor  how  skillfully  constructed, 
a  speech  gets  nothing  if  it  asks  nothing.  The  elocution 
natural  to  it  flattens  it.  On  the  contrary,  he  must  be 
fearfully  and  wonderfully  made  who  can  not  in  public 
speech  put  life  into  a  question.  Can  you  drawl  a 
question  ?  Can  you  sing  a  question  ?  Can  you  make 
humdrum  of  a  question  ?  Can  you  deliver  a  series  of 
questions  without  a  quickening  of  your  elocution  ?  Try 
it.  Experiment  on  Shylock's  talk  with  Salarino :  "  I 
am  a  Jew.  Hath  not  a  Jew  eyes?  Hath  not  a  Jew 
hands?  If  you  prick  us,  do  we  not  bleed?  If  you 
tickle  us,  do  we  not  laugh?  If  you  poison  us,  do  we 
not  die  ?  And,  if  you  wrong  us,  shall  we  not  revenge  ? ' 
If  the  interrogative  could  do  nothing  else  than  to  ener- 
gize delivery,  it  would  be  indispensable  to  a  forcible 
style  for  that.  Florists  say  that  a  bouquet  of  flowers  is 
never  perfect  without  one  yellow  blossom  in  honor  of 
the  sun.  So  the  expedients  of  rhetorical  figure  are 
incomplete  without  the  interrogative.  The  instinct  of 
earnest  speech  craves  it,  and  will  always  have  it,  if  the 
speaker's  taste  has  not  been  perverted  by  false  notions 
of  dignity. 

A  modification  of  this  figure  is  found  in  the  colloquy. 
This  was  formerly  employed  in  the  pulpit  more  freely 
than  now.  Question  and  answer,  with  question  again 
and  rejoinder,  have  often  given  an  energetic  presentation 
of  argument.  This  form  of  discussion  by  disputation, 
as  you  are  aware,  was  abundantly  used  by  the  ancient 
philosophers.  French  preachers  have  used  it  with  great 
effect.     Saurin  has  a  sermon  in  which  God  and  man 


LKCT.  XVI.]  HYPERBOLE.  —  IRONY.  269 

are  represented  in  colloquy  to  which  the  audiet  ce  are 
summoned  by  a  herald.  Some  of  the  most  impassioned 
passages  of  the  Bible  are  in  this  style. 

4.  It  scarcely  needs  a  reminder  that  hyperbole  is  a  fa- 
vorite figure  of  rhetoric  among  energetic  writers.  Any 
thing  adds  force  to  style  which  expresses  strength  of 
conviction  in  the  preacher.  This  hyperbole  obviously 
does.  It  needs  only  the  caution  that  the  preacher  should 
not  allow  it  to  pass  for  reckless  assertion.  It  should 
never  be  used,  therefore,  in  statements  of  doctrine.  To 
this  day,  the  question  is  a  controverted  one,  whether  St. 
Paul  speaks  in  hyperbole  or  not,  in  saying,  "I  could 
wish  myself  accursed  from  Christ." 

5.  The  forcibleness  of  irony  needs  no  illustration.  It 
needs,  rather,  to  be  flanked  with  cautions,  of  which  one 
is,  that  it  should  not  be  a  favorite  with  a  preacher.  As 
an  instrument  of  serious  speech,  it  is  corrosive.  In 
itself  it  repels  good  feeling.  Were  not  this  a  world  of 
sin,  and  did  not  sin  make  fools  of  men  who  must  be 
answered  according  to  their  folly,  irony  might  not  be 
numbered  among  the  expedients  of  manly  discourse. 
Yet  it  is  a  curious  phenomenon  in  literature,  that  many 
of  the  most  renowned  satirists  in  history  have  been 
clergymen.  Rabelais,  Scarrou,  Swift,  Sterne,  Sydney 
Smith,  Mather  Byles,  were  all  of  the  ecclesiastical  order ; 
but  their  names  do  not  command  the  reverent  remem- 
brance of  the  church. 

Again :  irony  should  not  be  so  keen  as  to  be  misun- 
derstood. It  is  an  instrument  capable  of  an  invisible 
edge.  Let  it  be  so  refined,  that  the  reader  does  not 
discern  the  truth  lurking  in  the  shadow  of  it,  and  it 
ceases  to  be  irony.  Dean  Swift  once  published  a  pam- 
phlet on  Irish  children,  in  which  he  seemed  to  advocate 
the  importation  of  Irish  children  into  England  as  an 


270  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  xvi. 

article  of  food.  It  had  a  great  sale  anc/  in  England 
produced  a  broad  laugh.  But  a  long-oared  French  critic 
adduced  it  as  a  sign  of  the  hopeless  barbarism  of  the 
English  people. 

6.  The  figure  of  exclamation  deserves  a  caution  rather 
than  commendation.  It  is  excessively  used  in  the  pul- 
pit. Not  only  in  the  monosyllabic  forms  "  oh ! "  and 
'■*  ah ! "  but  in  the  constructive  forms  in  which  the 
whole  sentence  is  made  exclamatory,  "  How  great  I " 
"  How  important ! "  "  How  solemn ! "  "  Awful  moment ! " 
"  Fearful  tidings !  "  There  is  a  style,  which,  for  the  free- 
dom with  which  it  employs  such  constructions,  may  be 
fitly  termed  the  exclamatory  style.  It  is  very  easy  com- 
position ;  it  is  a  facile  way  of  beginning  a  sentence : 
therefore  we  employ  it  excessively.  It  is  a  sign  of 
indolent  composing.  Our  inquiry,  therefore,  should  be, 
When  may  we  omit  it  ?  and  our  rule,  to  dispense  with  it 
whenever  we  can.  Dean  Swift  commends  a  reader  who 
said  it  was  his  rule  to  pass  over  every  paragraph  in 
reading,  at  the  end  of  which  his  eye  detected  the  note 
of  exclamation.  Home  Tooke  denied  that  exclama- 
tions belong  to  language :  he  said  they  were  involuntary 
nervous  affections,  like  sneezing,  coughing,  yawning. 

7.  A  speaker  who  is  perfect  master  of  his  imagina- 
tion will  sometimes  instinctively  choose  the  figure  of 
vision  to  express  his  most  powerful  conceptions.  The 
life  which  it  gives  to  style  is  splendidly  illustrated  in 
some  of  the  prophecies.  The  strictly  prophetic  state 
was  a  state  of  vision  of  the  distant  future.  Yet  note 
how  instinctively  secular  oratory  adopts  the  same  expe- 
dient. Napoleon,  to  his  soldiers  in  Italy,  says,  "You 
will  soon  return  to  your  homes ;  and  your  fellow-citizens 
will  say  of  you,  as  you  pass,  '  He  was  a  soldier  in  the 
army   of  Italy.' "     So   the   inspired  writer   says,    "  Of 


MOT.  XVI.]  APOSTROPHE.  —  SOLILOQXJT.  271 

Zion  it  shall  be  said,  This  and  that  man  was  born  in 
her."  Edward  Everett's  vision  of  "  The  Mayflower " 
was  more  than  equaled  by  some  of  Whitefield's  experi- 
ments with  the  same  figure  in  the  pulpit.  No  eloquence 
furnishes  grander  material  for  the  use  of  vision  than  that 
of  the  pulpit.  The  advent  of  Christ,  the  crucifixion, 
the  ascension,  the  resurrection,  heaven,  hell,  are  themes 
to  which  a  preacher  can  scarcely  do  justice  without  this 
intense  and  imperial  figure.  But,  because  it  is  so  power- 
ful, it  needs  a  master  of  speech  to  execute  it  well.  It 
is  one  of  the  expedients  of  style  which  lie  on  the  border- 
line between  the  sublime  and  the  ridiculous.  Less  than 
the  proverbial  "  step  "  separates  them. 

8.  The  most  passionate  forms  of  eloquence  employ 
the  apostrophe  with  power.  The  early  Christian  preach- 
ers used  it  to  excess.  The  unseen  world  was  very  real 
to  their  faith:  therefore  they  often  apostrophized  the 
departed  as  if  present  to  their  eye.  It  is  thought  by 
some,  that  prayer  to  the  saints  had  its  origin  in  this 
usage  of  the  ancient  pulpit,  assisted  as  it  was  by  the 
early  Christian  hymnology,  and  specially  displayed  in 
funeral-sermons.  The  most  notable  example  of  this 
figure  in  secular  literature  is  Mark  Antony's  apostrophe, 
as  represented  by  Shakspeare,  over  the  dead  body  of 
Caesar.  The  Rev.  Dr.  Griffin  in  the  Park-street  Church 
in  Boston  once  electrified  the  assembly  by  apostrophiz- 
ing Voltaire  as  being  in  the  world  of  the  lost.  "  What 
think  you,"  said  the  preacher,  —  "  what  think  you,  Vol- 
taire, of  Christianity  now?" 

The  soliloquy  should  properly  be  regarded  as  a  variety 
of  the  apostrophe ;  the  latter  being  a  direct  address  to 
anybody  who  is  not  the  natural  audience  of  the  speaker. 
The  soliloquy  was  often  used  by  Rev.  Dr.  Davies  of 
Virginia.     In  the  form  of  self-rebuke,  he  would  often 


27S  ENGLISH    STYLE.  [lbct.  xti 

utter  rebuke  to  others  whicli  they  would  bear  in  no 
other  way.  Another  modification  of  the  apostrophe  is 
prayer.  If  reverently  and  seldom  done,  ir  the  midst 
of  a  discourse  it  may  have  marvelous  power.  Such 
prayer  has  a  double  force :  it  is  supplicatory,  as  ad- 
dressed to  God ;  and  it  is  an  indirect  appeal  to  men. 
Massillon,  preaching  on  the  text,  "  Are  there  few  that 
be  saved  ?  "  after  seeming  to  restrict  to  a  narrow,  and  a 
narrower,  and  the  narrowest  limit,  the  number  of  the 
elect,  broke  out  with  the  apostrophe :  "  O  God,  where 
are  thine  elect  ?  "  It  is  said  that  the  entire  audience 
sprang  to  their  feet. 

Is  the  exclamatory  use  of  the  name  of  God  to  be 
vindicated  as  rhetorical  apostrophe  ?  "  My  God  I "  "  O 
God  1 "  "  Good  God !  "  "  In  God's  name !  "  —  are  these 
apostrophes?  The  French  pulpit  employs  them  with 
great  freedom.  The  Rev.  Dr.  Nott,  the  celebrated  presi- 
dent of  Union  College,  defended  and  used  them.  The 
piety  of  the  American  Congress  often  utters  its  devout 
aspirations  in  this  form.  But  these  expressions  are 
exclamatory,  not  apostrophic.  Commonly  no  devout 
sense  of  the  Divine  Presence  is  felt  in  the  use  of  them. 
The  use  of  them  in  oratory  is  of  pagan  origin.  Greek 
poetry  is  full  of  them :  we  owe  them  primarily  tc 
Homer.  They  were  in  perfect  keeping  with  the  Greek 
idea  of  the  gods :  rhetorically,  therefore,  they  were  not 
a  blemish  in  Greek  oratory.  Christian  theism,  however, 
condemns  them  morally,  and  therefore  Christian  taste 
condemns  them  rhetorically. 

These  are  the  chief  of  the  figures  of  rhetoric  which 
the  oratorical  instinct  has  originated  to  assist  its  most 
forcible  utterances.  The  charm  of  them  lies  in  their 
variety :  no  one  should  be  a  favorite  with  a  preacher. 
The  thing  needed  is  the  cultivated  instinct,  which  shall 


LECT.  xvi.J  SINCERITY  IN   SPEECH.  273 

choose  them  wisely.  But  the  chief  observation  which 
criticism  has  to  make  upon  them  is,  that  they  all  imply 
force  of  emotion  on  the  part  of  the  speaker.  Manu- 
facture them,  and  they  are  but  wooden  playthings. 
They  reflect  significance  back  upon  the  principle  with 
which  these  discussions  began,  —  that  a  writer  must 
write,  and  a  speaker  must  speak,  from  the  honest  state 
of  his  own  mind.  That  state  must  be  such  that  he  can 
write,  and  can  speak,  with  honest  enthusiasm.  Nothing 
is  powerful  in  speech  which  is  not  sincere.  The  inspira- 
tion which  shall  command  and  use  these  expedients  of 
style  must  be,  as  one  critic  has  expressed  it,  "  not  put 
on  horn  without,  but  put  out  from  within." 


LECTURE  XVn. 

ELEGANCE  OF  STYLE;  DEPENDENT  ON  DELICA-CI". 

A  VERY  vital  quality,  which  is  in  many  respects  the 
opposite  of  energy,  is  elegance  of  style.  It  may  be 
concisely  defined  as  the  quality  by  which  thought  as 
expressed  in  language  appeals  to  our  sense  of  the 
beautiful. 

Beauty,  like  strength,  is  one  of  our  ultimate  concep- 
tions. We  can  not  define  it  but  by  the  use  of  syno- 
nyms, which,  in  return,  fall  back  upon  it  for  their  own 
meaning.  Ruskin  says,  that  the  question  why  some 
material  objects  seem  beautiful  to  us,  and  others  not,  is 
"  no  more  to  be  asked  than  why  we  like  sugar,  and  dis- 
like wormwood."  Sii  Joshua  Reynolds  declares,  that,  if 
an  African  artist  were  to  paint  his  ideal  of  beauty,  he 
would  produce  a  person  of  black,  glossy  skin,  flat  nose, 
thick  lips,  and  woolly  hair.  He  also  affirms  that  the 
artist  would  be  right :  so  greatly  does  the  conception 
of  beauty  depend  on  association. 

Beauty  in  style,  I  think,  admits  of  partial  analysis. 
I  find  in  it  four  distinct  elements,  one  or  more  of  which 
exist  in  all  elegant  composition,  and  all  of  which  are 
discoverable  in  the  most  perfect  forms  of  elegant  speech. 
These  elements  are  delicacy,  viAddness,  variety,  and 
harmony. 

I.  Elegance  of  style,  then,  may  be  first  considered  as 
dependent  on  the  element  of  delicacy. 

274 


LECT.  xvn.]  THE   FElVflNINE   IN   THOUGHT.  275 

1.  And,  first,  it  has  its  foundation  in  delicacy  of  the  ught. 
In  "The  Essay  on  the  Sublime  and  the  Beautiful,"  Ed- 
mund Burke  approaches  this  view  by  claiming  that 
smallness  in  an  object  is  essential  to  its  beauty.  He 
observes,  "When  nature  would  make  any  thing  spe- 
cially rare  and  beautiful,  she  makes  it  little.  Every- 
body calls  that  little  which  they  love  best  on  earth." 
An  affectionate  husband  is  apt  to  call  his  wife  little, 
though  she  may  weigh  two  hundred  pounds.  Dr.  John- 
son's wife  was  of  nearly  twice  his  own  age  at  the  time 
of  their  marriage ;  she  was  coarse  and  stout  in  person ; 
she  was  affestedin  manners,  and  petulant  in  disposition ; 
and  he  was  far  from  being  a  man  of  refined  feeling :  yet 
he  used  to  speak  of  her  as  his  "  dear  Letty,"  as  a  child 
might  speak  of  a  pet  kitten.  The  diminutive  he  coined 
out  of  her  name,  "  Elizabeth." 

Of  beauty  in  style,  that  element  which  most  nearly 
resembles  this  of  smallness  in  Burke's  analysis  is  deli- 
cacy. It  is,  if  I  may  so  speak,  the  feminine  quality  in 
thought.  Is  there  not  a  diversity  in  truth,  correspond- 
ing to  diversity  of  sex  in  human  character?  Truths 
are  masculine  and  feminine  in  their  affinities.  Woman 
originates  certain  conceptions  more  readily  than  man, 
and  appreciates  them  more  keenly.  Other  conceptions 
the  masculine  mind  grasps  the  more  profoundly.  The 
literature  produced  by  the  two  sexes  will  bear  traces  of 
this  diversity,  except  in  sporadic  cases  in  which  the  one 
sex  is  rabid  with  the  craving  to  he  the  other.  Certain 
discoveries  in  science,  certain  works  of  art,  certain 
truths  of  religion,  woman  will  not  naturally  originate, 
any  more  than  she  will  naturally  be  a  drummer,  or 
choose  a  trombone  as  the  accompaniment  of  her  songs. 

Elegance  of  style,  I  repeat,  groups  within  its  range 
of  expression  these  feminine  qualities  of  thought.     No 


276  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [utOT,  xvn, 

genuine  beaut)'  can  exist  in  literary  expression  without 
them.  Can  you  by  any  description  of  it  in  language 
make  chain-lightning  beautiful  ?  Can  you  so  describe 
in  words  the  boom  of  a  cannon  that  it  shall  appear  in 
gentle  undulations  of  beauty?  But  can  you,  in  de- 
scriptive style,  so  represent  a  moss-rose,  or  the  airs  of  a 
flute,  that  they  shall  seem  other  than  beautiful  ?  These 
diversities  in  style  run  through  the  whole  realm  of 
thought.  They  can  not  be  ignored  without  producing 
literary  deformities.  The  significance  of  this  view  in 
its  bearing  upon  beauty  of  discourse  will  be  seen  in  the 
following  suggestions. 

The  principle  in  question  refutes  a  certain  prejudice 
against  an  elegant  style.  Elegant  taste  in  any  thing 
lives  at  the  risk  of  being  despised.  Even  among  able 
writers,  elegance  and  effeminacy  are  often  treated  as 
synonyms.  The  Jewish  prayer  of  thanksgiving,  "  Lord, 
I  thank  thee  that  I  was  not  born  a  woman !  "  finds  its 
kindred  among  literary  tastes  and  canons  of  criticism. 
Such  is  the  reverenca  often  felt  for  Gothic  strength  in 
speech,  that  elegance  ^f  diction  is  condemned  without 
a  hearing.  We  stud/  to  be  perspicuous,  because  we 
must  be  understood.  We  study  precision,  purity,  and, 
above  all,  force  in  style,  because  these  add  power  to 
clearness.  But  of  an  elegant  style  we  are  apt  to  think 
as  Wesley  did  of  the  manners  of  a  gentleman,  when  he 
told  his  youthful  preachers  that  they  "had  no  more 
business  to  be  gentlemen  than  to  be  dancing-masters." 
A  special  incongruity  's  often  imagined  to  exist  between 
beauty  and  the  pulpit. 

This  prejudice  is  intensified  by  our  English  tempera- 
ment. The  English  mind,  and,  as  an  offshoot  of  it,  the 
American  mind  as  well,  are  not  partial  to  the  elegant 
qualities,  specially  in  public  oral  address.     We  are  jeal- 


LECi.  XVII.]  AFFECTATION    OF    EEAUTY.  277 

ous  for  our  strength.  We  are  proud  of  our  Saxon  stock. 
We  are,  therefore,  morbidly  afraid  of  imposing  on  our- 
selves by  elegant  literary  forms.  We  are  in  this  respect 
what  our  language  is,  —  hardy,  rough,  careless  of  ease. 
The  languages  and  temperaments  of  Southern  Europe 
are  in  this  respect  our  opposites.  We  have  cultivated 
learning  at  the  expense  of  taste ;  they,  taste  at  the 
expense  of  learning. 

This  prejudice,  moreover,  is  often  aggravated  by  affec- 
tations of  the  beautiful  in  literary  expression.  Affecta- 
tions create  caricatures  of  beaut}^:  these  repel  taste,  as 
they  repel  good  sense.  That  cast  of  character  which 
leads  a  young  man  to  wear  long  hair,  and  to  part  it  in 
the  middle,  often  appears  in  literature  in  a  straining 
after  the  feminine  qualities  of  style  when  no  beauty  of 
thought  underlies  and  demands  them.  This  nauseates 
short-haired  men,  and  lends  reason  to  their  prejudice 
against  the  genuine  because  of  the  counterfeit  elegance. 
The  cant  of  literature,  like  that  of  religion,  is  never 
more  disgusting  than  when  it  takes  the  form  of  the 
exquisite.     Morbid  delicacy  rasps  manly  nerves. 

Dr.  Johnson  attributed  the  suocess  of  the  Methodists 
in  Great  Britain  to  their  revolt  from  the  frigid  elegance 
which  was  mincingly  practiced  by  the  English  clergy  of 
his  day.  Johnson  said  that  the  Methodist  revolution 
should  be  commended  by  all  men  of  sense.  He  was 
right.  That  revolution  was  not  merely  a  recoil  of  piety 
from  worldliness:  it  was  a  revolt  of  English  good  sense 
against  a  literan^  affectation.  That  which  the  Method- 
ist clergy  did  from  religious  enthusiasm,  literature 
ought  to  have  done  through  self-respect. 

All  this,  and  more,  might  be  said  in  defense  of  the 
prejudice  against  elegant  discourse.  Still,  elegance 
expresses   a   fact   in  xiterary  diction.     It  is  a  fact  no 


278  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [le(T.  xvn, 

where  else  so  essential  as  in  the  discourse  of  the  pulpit. 
Preacliers  have  this  practical  question  to  ask  and  to 
answer,  How  are  the  feminine  elements  in  truth  to  be 
expressed?  In  what  language  shall  we  clothe  them? 
What  vocabulary,  what  constructions,  what  imagery, 
what  of  the  thousand  expedients  of  style,  shall  we  choose 
for  their  equipment?  Shall  we  write  with  perspicuity? 
Yes ;  but  perspicuity  can  not  express,  for  example,  the 
idea  of  filial  trust.  Shall  we  speak  with  precision '"" 
Yes ;  but  precision  can  not  measure  the  affection  ot 
David  and  Jonathan.  Shall  we  experiment  with  en- 
ergy ?  It  should  seem  so  to  the  eye  of  the  criticism  in 
question.  But  would  you  dare  to  preach  an  energetic 
sermon  on  the  text  "  That  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved  "  ? 
Energy  as  an  expressimi  of  the  beautiful  in  thought 
is  like  lightning  as  a  specimen  of  light.  How,  theu, 
shall  the  beautiful  find  outlet  in  the  speech  of  the 
pulpit  ? 

Dr.  John  Owen  says  of  himself,  "  Know  that  you 
have  to  do  with  a  person,  who,  provided  that  his  words 
but  clearly  express  his  sentiments,  entertains  a  fixed 
and  absolute  disregard  of  all  elegance  and  ornaments 
of  speech."  This  sounds  well.  What  is  more  reasona- 
ble? But  the  difficulty  is,  that  considerably  more  than 
half  of  the  proper  materials  of  the  pulpit  can  not  be 
expressed  without  "elegance  and  ornaments  of  speech.'' 
What  shall  we  do  with  them  ?  What,  on  such  a  theorj', 
shall  we  do  with  more  than  half  of  the  Bible?  Shall 
we  ignore  in  the  pulpit  the  Psalms  of  David,  Isaiali's 
visions  of  the  world's  closing  age,  the  parables  of  our 
Lord,  the  inspired  revelations  of  heaven,  St.  Paul's  doc- 
trine of  immortality,  his  description  of  charity?  Yet 
not  one  of  these  can  be  becomingly  expressed  without 
"elegance  and  ornaments  of  speech."      No  man  can 


LECT.  XVII.]  BEAUTY   AND   STRENGTH.  279 

otherwise  preach  upon  them  with  any  approximation  to 
the  inspired  spirit  in  them. 

The  question  becomes  one  of  signal  importance  to  the 
pulpit,  in  view  of  the  immense  preponderance  of  beau- 
tiful thought  within  the  compass  of  language.  Does 
not  the  material  world  present  an  obvious  ascendency 
of  beauty  over  force,  over  sublimity  even?  The  pro 
fusion  of  creative  energy  is  nowhere  else  seen  so  clearly 
as  in  the  sportive  production  of  objects  beautiful  to  the 
eye.  So  far  as  we  know,  many  of  them  have  no  other 
reason  for  their  creation  than  their  passive  beauty. 
Naturalists  have  conjectured  that  the  more  gorgeous 
species  of  the  butterfly  have  a  sense  of  beauty  which 
enables  them  to  enjoy  the  variegated  coloring  of  their 
own  forms.  They  are  believed  to  rest  from  their  fora- 
ging expeditions,  on  the  cool  surface  of  a  leaf,  in  silent 
and  tranquil  joy  at  the  magnificence  of  their  expanded 
wings.  So  lavish  is  Nature  in  its  creation  of  the  beau- 
tiful, and  its  provision  of  the  sense  of  beauty  to  respond 
to  it  through  the  sentient  universe.  Is  not  this  em- 
blematic of  a  similar  profusion  in  the  spiritual  world  ? 
How  is  it  with  the  perfected  forms  of  human  character 
with  which  the  pulpit  has  to  deal  so  largely  ?  Which 
is  there  in  the  ascendent,  —  beauty,  or  strength?  To  ask 
this  question  is  to  answer  it.  Energy  we  find  in  savage 
mind.  The  ultimate  fruitage  of  culture  we  sum  up 
under  the  title  of  the  "refinements  of  civilization."  A 
ripe  mind  of  evenly  balanced  sensibilities  will  discover 
in  the  world  of  thought,  which  is  its  mental  atmospliere, 
more  of  beauty  than  of  any  other  single  quality. 

A  moral  design  is  obvious  in  this  proportioning  of 
things.  It  is  one  with  which  the  pulpit  is  most  vitally 
concerned.  There,  more  than  anywhere  else,  must  the 
feminine  qualities  of  thought  predominate.     True,  the 


280  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  xvn. 

pulpit  finds  immense  forces  in  its  materials.  It  rcust 
deal  with  the  grand  and  the  terrific.  To  mee(  the  emer- 
gencies which  sin  creates,  it  must  often  obtrude  these 
into  the  foreground  of  its  ministrations.  It  must  know 
the  terrors  of  the  Lord  if  it  would  persuade  men.  But, 
after  all,  these  are  elementary  forces.  They  are  prepara- 
tive, not  ultimate,  in  their  working.  They  are,  for  the 
most  part,  destructive  of  evil,  rather  than  constructive 
of  good.  To  the  results  of  preaching  they  are  what  the 
geologic  cataclysms  are  to  the  preparation  of  the  globe 
for  the  well-being  of  man.  Those  resources  of  the  pulpit 
which  build  up  men  in  the  varieties  and  the  harmonies 
of  Christlike  manhood  are  chiefly  the  gentle  forces,  the 
winning  and  the  tranquil.  ]\Ien  become  what  the  pulpit 
would  make  them,  not  through  fear,  but  through  love, 
and  its  auxiliaries  in  human  nature.  Truth  descends 
upon  them  like  the  rain,  and  distills  like  the  dew. 
Light,  gravitation,  the  azure  of  the  sky,  are  emblems 
of  those  resources  which  the  pulpit  employs  in  all  its 
ultimate  constructive  work  on  human  character. 

Test  the  truth  of  this.  Take  the  ministry  of  a  faith- 
ful and  successful  pulpit  for  a  period  of  ten  years. 
Number  the  sermons  delivered  in  those  years  of  up- 
building. Mark  the  keynote  of  their  subjects.  What 
was  the  real  constructive  power  in  them  ?  You  will 
find  in  the  inner  history  of  any  such  ministry  that  love 
has  been  the  germinal  idea,  and  beauty  the  external 
symbol  in  the  forms  of  language.  Follow  such  a  min- 
istry to  its  fruitage  in  one  character  ripened  under  its 
influence.  Turn  to  the  memoirs  of  saints,  or,  what  is 
more  to  the  purpose,  study  an  unwritten  biography  in 
which  unconscious  sainthood  is  working  itself  out ;  and 
what  do  you  find  there  ?  Shapes,  pencilings,  hues,  shad 
ings  of  thought  and  feeling,  too  delicate  for  art.     What 


LECT.  xvu.]  BEAUTY   IN   CHARACTER.  281 

a  countless  multitude  of  these  make  up  the  life  that  is 
hid  with  Christ !  Behold  the  lilies  of  the  field,  how 
they  grow !  The  question,  then,  for  the  preacher  to 
decide  is.  How  shall  sucli  a  ministry  reach  its  work, 
and  do  it  effectually,  in  any  other  ways  than  hy  forms 
and  combinations  of  truth  in  which  beauty  is  the  as- 
cendent feature,  and,  of  course,  elegance  in  style  is  tlie 
natural  expression  ? 

Note  the  contrast  with  a  style  which  shall  express 
the  workings  of  sin  in  humaii  life  and  its  fruit  in  human 
character.  Sin  is  in  its  very  nature  turbulent.  The 
style  which  deals  with  it  tends  to  violence.  Preaching 
about  it  suggests  a  coming  tragedy.  It  craves  a  rough 
dialect,  and  often  repulsive  imagery.  Is  there  not  a 
keen  sense  of  rhetorical  congruity  displaj'ed  in  the  choice 
of  the  emblem  by  which  Isaiah  pictures  enormous  guilt 
when  he  says,  "  Woe  unto  them  that  draw  sin  as  with  a 
cart-rope  "  ?  Would  inspired  taste  have  chosen  such  an 
emblem  as  that  to  picture  the  final  stages  of  a  godly  life 
like  that  of  the  apostle  John  ?  Yet  holy  experience  ir-. 
in  this  respect,  only  one  example  of  what  is  true  of  a 
vast  proportion  of  those  rich  and  choice  combinations 
of  truth  which  form  the  best  themes  of  the  pulpit. 
Again,  therefore,  must  we  press  the  question.  How  shall 
these  themes  be  fitly  discussed  in  sermons  ?  Surely 
not  by  the  enginery  of  a  forceful  diction.  Can  you 
picture  to  an  audience  the  scene  of  the  Last  Supper, 
and  the  loved  disciple  leaning  on  Jesus'  bosom,  by  an 
abrupt,  startling  style,  jagged  in  its  connections,  filled 
with  martial  metaphors,  resonant  with  Miltonic  periods, 
or  serrated  like  those  of  Carlylc,  and  backed  by  a  fiery 
delivery,  with  a  clinched  fist,  a  frenzied  eye,  bellowing 
tones,  and  foot  planted  like  that  of  a  pugilist? 

The  dependence  of  elegance  on  delicacy  of  thought 


282  ENGLISH    STYLR.  [lect.  xvii 

suggests,  further,  the  true  reply  to  that  theoretic  error 
which  restricts  elegance  to  ornament.  Beauty  in  dis- 
course interests  in  proportion  to  its  expression  of  char 
acter.  That  is  not  beauty  of  high  order  which  is  not 
full  of  character  of  high  order.  Often,  therefore,  the 
tiling  which  juvenile  discourse  chiefl^Mieeds  is  to  dimin- 
ish its  adornment.  Its  elegance  needs  to  be  brought 
down  to  a  level  with  its  real  character  as  the  herald  of 
thought.  Some  passages  in  Wordsworth's  poetry,  in 
which  he  dwells  fondly  on  natural  scenery,  are  dull. 
They  are  true  to  fact ;  they  are  polished  in  form  ;  they 
are  melodious  on  the  lips.  A  good  rehearser  of  them, 
on  a  calm  summer's  day,  would  give  them  in  tranquil 
recitative,  which  would  soothe  a  tired  hearer ;  but  they 
would  not  interest  an  alert  one.  To  such  a  one  they 
are  dull.  Wh}'  ?  Because  they  lack  thought  propor- 
tioned to  their  elaborateness  of  form.  They  fondle 
commonplaces  in  the  works  of  Nature :  they  make  as 
much  of  an  apj)le-blossom  as  of  a  tropical  garden.  Noth- 
ing in  literary  forms  makes  the  impression  of  beauty 
which  does  not  carry  thought  enough  to  constitute  a 
certain  ballast  to  the  form.  Ornament  achieves  noth- 
ina^  above  its  own  weight  in  thought. 

Nevertheless,  profusion  of  ornament  is  beautiful  if 
demanded  by  thought.  If  the  nature  of  a  subject  be 
such  that  the  most  characteristic  expression  of  it  re- 
quires elaborate  adornment,  that  elaborate  adornment 
is  beauty.  As  the  material  world  abounds  with  such 
forms  of  beauty,  and  as  the  fine  arts  are  immortalized 
by  them,  so  does  style  often  express  them  in  language. 

Again :  the  dependence  of  elegance  on  delicacy  of 
thought  discloses  the  most  radical  source  of  offenses 
against  this  quality  of  style  in  the  unfitness  of  the 
thought  to  elegant  utterance.     No  refinements  of  style 


LBCT.  XVII.]  SACEAMENTAL   SERMONS.  283 

can  beautify  that  which  is  intrinsically  coarse.  Byron  's 
"Don  Juan"  is  not  elegant;  ingenuities  of  style  can 
not  make  it  so  ;  no  style  can  conceal  its  inherent  vul- 
garity. 

The  form  of  this  defect  to  which  modern  preacliing 
is  exposed  is  not  an  extreme  one.  It  is  that  of  falling 
but  a  little  below,  and  yet  below,  the  level  of  cultivated 
taste ;  not  so  far  below  as  to  shock  refinement,  yet  so 
far  as  to  fail  to  attract  refinement.  Of  all  the  subjects 
of  the  pulpit,  that  which  is  most  frequently  maltreated 
by  the  want  of  delicate  taste  is  that  of  our  Lord's  suf- 
ferings and  death.  I  could  give  you  examples  if  it 
were  desirable  to  repeat  them,  but  you  have  doubtless 
met  with  them  in  your  experience  as  listeners  to  preach- 
ing. Devotional  feeling  has  been  destroyed  by  the  bal- 
ancing against  it  of  the  cravings  of  good  taste.  The 
biblical  narratives  of  our  Lord's  physical  sufferings  need 
to  be  handled  with  an  affectionate  delicacy  of  touch. 
Much  of  the  preaching  of  our  immediate  predecessors 
on  that  theme  can  not  be  now  a  model  for  you.  Chris- 
tian thought  has  made  a  perceptible  progress  in  the  habit 
of  subordinating  the  physical,  ajid  exalting  the  mental, 
element  in  the  atoning  pains. 

No  rule  can  be  given,  and  none  is  needed.  The  hint 
is  sufficient,  that  elaboration  of  the  biblical  narrative 
requires  the  same  delicacy  of  treatment  which  one 
would  give  to  a  narrative  of  the  dying  agonies  of  a  per- 
sonal friend.  Medical  science  has  collated  facts  bear- 
ing upon  the  human  physiology  of  Christ,  and  therefore 
upon  the  scenes  of  the  crucifixion  and  the  garden,  which 
are  not  without  interest  or  pertinence  ;  but  I  very  much 
doubt  the  value  of  them  to  the  service  of  the  pulpit. 
They  are,  to  say  the  least,  materials  of  a  perilous  nature 
as  related  to  the  sensibilities  we  wish  to  reach  by  sacra- 


284  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [i.ect.  xvii 

mental  sermons.  In  our  most  profound  conceptions, 
the  infinite  tragedy  buries  itself  in  an  infinite  mystery ; 
and  there  the  instinct  of  good  taste  would  leave  it  in 
iinfathomed  depths. 

Not  only  is  coarse  thought  incapable  of  elegant 
expression,  but  that  is  not  an  elegant  style  in  which 
beauty  is  attempted  in  the  utterance  of  thoughts  nega- 
tive to  tliat  quality.  Some  of  our  materials  are  not 
beautiful,  yet  are  not  the  reverse :  they  are  negative. 
They  lie  outside  of  the  range  of  beauty  in  language : 
therefore  they  are  not  proper  subjects  of  elegant  utter- 
ance. Forcibly  uttered  they  may  be,  or  perspicuously 
uttered,  or  precisely  uttered,  but  not  elegantly  uttered. 
They  may  be  the  theme  of  a  demonstration,  or  of  a 
philosophical  argument,  or  of  a  philippic,  but  not  of  a 
poem,  not  of  a  painting,  not  of  a  passage  in  elegant  dis- 
course. When  expressed,  they  ought  not  to  be  adorned : 
the  adornment,  if  attempted,  will  be  a  failure.  Such  is 
the  verdict  of  good  taste  upon  them. 

Dr.  Chalmers,  for  example,  in  one  of  his  produc- 
tions, writes  of  "  contemplation  "  under  the  figure  of 
"  a  sensitive  maiden  flying  from  his  mansion."  What 
for?  It  is  for  the  noise  of  his  door-bell.  Is  this  a 
beautiful  expression  of  the  fact  that  he  could  not  think 
well  when  disturbed  by  a  clatter  at  the  street-door  ? 
Surely  not ;  and  why  not  ?  Simply  because  the  idea  had 
no  beauty  in  it :  it  could  not  support  imagery ;  it  had 
no  wings ;  least  of  all  could  it  lift  itself  gracefully  on 
the  wings  of  an  allegorical  angel.  Didactic  preaching 
is  sometimes  tempted  to  the  error  of  imposing  beauty 
on  ideas  negative  to  that  quality  by  the  desire  to  avoid 
commonplace.  In  didactic  remark  the  problem  of  the 
pen  is  to  make  it  interesting.  Dry  fact  lies  at  one 
extreme,  false  ornament  at  the  other.     Commonplace 


VECT.  xvn.]  OVERWROUGHT   ELEGANCE.  286 

imagery  is  perhaps  more  frequently  perpetrated  for  this 
reason  than  for  any  other. 

Macaulay  notices  it  as  one  of  the  signs  of  the  decay 
of  art,  that  ornament  is  misplaced  in  the  choice  of  its 
objects.  The  same  error  indicates  imperfect  culture  in 
literature.  A  writer  has  gained  one  of  the  prime  requi- 
sites of  a  good  style  when  he  has  acquired  the  courage 
to  say  what  he  has  to  say,  and  then  trust  his  own  work. 
If  clear,  didactic  statement  is  all  that  the  thought 
demands,  then  clear,  didactic  statement  let  it  be.  Take 
the  risk  of  being  commonplace.  Never  tack  on  gold- 
lace  in  the  attempt  to  improve  linsey-woolsey. 

Again :  that  is  nut  an  elegant  style  in  which  beauty 
of  form  is  excessive  in  degree.  Often,  as  has  been 
before  remarked,  a  speaker's  thought  is  not  weighty 
enough  to  sustain  elaborated  style  of  any  kind,  and, 
least  of  all,  elaborated  imagery.  Architects  tell  us,  that 
a  small  specimen  of  the  Gothic  architecture  is  of  neces- 
sity in  bad  taste.  No  matter  how  perfectly  finished,  it 
can  not  be  good  art.  The  reason  they  give  is,  that  the 
profusion  of  ornament  which  the  Gothic  order  requires 
can  not  be  compressed  into  a  small  area.  It  must  have 
vast  spaces,  massive  pillars,  huge  vaults  in  the  ceiiing, 
immense  windows,  prolonged  distances  in  nave  and 
transept.  Every  thing  about  it  must  be  congruous  with 
the  grand  and  the  magnificent.  Therefore  a  Gothic 
cathedral  in  miniature  is  a  contradiction.  So  it  is  often 
with  the  expression  of  thought  in  language.  Profuse 
embellishment  must  be  supported  by  a  certain  bulk  of 
thought,  so  that  the  thought  shall  be  felt  through  the 
ornate  and  fanciful  style,  or  the  ultimate  effect  will  be 
finical.  In  the  pulpit  especially,  good  taste  is  jealous 
for  the  dignity  of  thought.  It  demands  that  never  the 
slightest  sacrifice  of  that  dignity  shall  be  made  to  embel* 
lishment  of  external  forms. 


286  E^•GLISU   STYLE.  [lect.  xvil 

Further :  the  forms  of  beauty  in  style  may  be  neu- 
tralizsd  by  improbable  conjecture  iu  the  materials  of 
thought.  There  was  a  profound  rhetorical  principle  iu 
Bossuet's  apothegm:  "Nothing  is  beautiful  but  truth." 
Why  are  fairy -stories  unimpressive  to  adult  minds? 
Because  the  intrinsic  untruthfulness  in  fact  overbal- 
ances all  possible  elegance  of  form.  The  final  im- 
pression is  frivolous.  To  children  the  fairy-fiction  is 
delightful,  because  of  the  immensity  of  a  child's  power 
of  "  make-belief."  Men  are  not  thus  fascinated,  because 
they  have  outlived  the  age  of  such  faith :  they  parted 
with  it  when  they  dropped  the  game  of  marbles.  Even 
"  The  Arabian  Nights  "  interests  us  chiefly  as  an  historic 
monument  of  an  Oriental  and  childish  civilization.  As 
a  work  of  art,  it  makes  no  profound  impression  on  the 
modern  and  Occidental  taste.  Who  cares  for  Aladdin's 
"  Lamp "  by  the  side  of  Scott's  "  Ivanhoe,"  or  Haw- 
thorne's "  Scarlet  Letter  "  ? 

A  preacher's  chief  temptation  to  the  error  now  before 
us  is  in  the  form  of  advancing  with  excessive  freedom 
conjectures  respecting  the  future  life.  Beyond  a  cer- 
tain temperate  and  conservative  degree,  indulgence  of 
religious  conjecture  offends  a  perfect  taste.  Such  dis- 
course does  not  find  its  place  in  smooth  congruity  with 
things  known  to  faith ;  and  therefore  it  jars  upon  a 
refined  aesthetic  feeling.  No  graces  of  diction  on  the 
outside  of  such  conjectures  can  soothe  the  sense  of  vio- 
lence done  to  truth  by  morbid  or  reckless  guess-work. 

The  foundation  of  elegance  in  delicacy  of  thought 
suggests,  further,  that  we  must  find  the  fundamental 
means  of  cultivating  this  quality  in  the  cultivation  of 
refinement  of  perception.  Refinement  in  our  habits 
of  thinking,  the  habit  of  dwelling  upon  the  beautiful  in 
literature,  distinguishing  varieties  of  be?uty,  studying 


LECT.  xvn.]  CULTIVATION    OP   TASTE.  287 

illustrations  of  beauty  in  external  nature,  observing 
analogies  between  the  beautiful  in  nature  and  art  and 
the  beautiful  in  language,  genial  criticism  of  the  best 
poetry,  studious  enjoyment  of  the  best  imagery  in 
prose,  attention  to  minutioe  of  style  in  which  elegance 
of  construction  chiefly  appears :  in  short,  any  and  every 
exercise  of  mind  which  brings  into  chastened  play  that 
sensibility  to  the  beautiful  which  every  mind  possesses, 
will  refine  our  taste,  and  make  our  perceptions  of  beauty 
truthful  and  prompt. 

As  there  is  a  state  of  mental  energy  in  production,  so 
there  is  a  state  of  culture  in  which  the  perception  and 
the  use  of  objects  and  literary  forms  of  beauty  shall  be- 
come habitual  in  one's  mental  working.  This  is  the 
improvement  which  those  need  chiefly  whose  style  is 
deficient  in  elegance.  It  is  not  the  acquisition  of  a 
stock  of  illustrative  materials :  it  is  something  yet  to 
be  developed  in  their  mental  constitution,  —  to  be  de- 
veloped, I  say,  not  to  be  created.  It  is  a  permanent 
state  of  mental  culture,  which  shall  be  to  style  what  a 
cultivated  ear  is  to  music. 

This  leads  us  to  observe,  that  all  preachers  may  pos- 
sess it.  It  is  a  growth  of  that  of  which  the  germ  exists 
in  every  mind.  No  man  can  escape  it  who  aims  persist- 
ently at  any  thing  like  concinnity  of  culture.  That  is  a 
fiction  which  some  youthful  writers  entertain,  that  their 
minds  are  not  fitted  to  the  cultivation  of  those  qualities 
which  beauty  in  style  represents.  Clear  writers  they 
may  become,  forcible  writers,  precise  writers,  prolific 
writers  perhaps,  but  not  elegant  writers.  "  The  graces 
of  rhetoric,"  says  one  such  preacher,  "  are  not  for  me." 
He  narrows  his  culture,  and  contracts  the  range  of  his 
power  in  public  speech  immensely,  who  subjects  him?elf 
to  any  such  restriction.     The  elements  which   refined 


288  ENGLISH    STYLE.  [lect.  xvn. 

taste  imparts  to  oral  speech  are  no  more  "  the  graces  of 
rhetoric''  tliau  those  which  energy  imparts  are  the  forces 
of  rhetoric.  They  are  graces  of  mind,  innate  in  every 
mind,  susceptible  of  growtli  in  every  mental  life,  inevi- 
table to  any  mind  which  is  disciplined  by  prolonged  and 
symmetrical  culture. 

2.  The  dependence  of  elegance  of  style  on  delicacy 
gives  rise  also  to  a  second  demand,  —  that  of  delicacy 
of  expression  in  the  utterance  of  thought.  Beauty  in 
thought  is  more  difficult  of  expression  than  energy 
in  thought :  it  requires  a  more  sensitive  discrimination 
of  the  significance  of  language.  An  elegant  stj'le,  there- 
fore, demands  a  more  choice  selection  and  arrangement 
of  words.  This  obvious  principle  has  also  significant 
corollaries. 

It  suggests,  in  the  first  place,  a  large  class  of  offenses 
against  elegance  in  style.  They  are  that  class  wliich 
results,  not  from  unfitness  of  thought,  but  from  inele- 
gant language.  The  choice  of  a  vocabulary  may  dis- 
close these  defects.  Words  have  their  aristocracy. 
Some  have  a  noble  birth ;  a  magnificent  history  lies  be- 
hind them  ;  they  were  born  amidst  the  swelling  and  the 
bursting  into  life  of  great  ideas.  On  the  contrary,  there 
are  words  which  have  plebeian  associations.  Some  are 
difficult  of  enunciation ;  and,  by  a  secret  sympathy,  the 
mind  attaches  to  them  the  distortion,  perhaps  the  pain, 
Df  th8  vocal  organs  in  their  utterance.  A  single  un- 
couth word  may  be  to  si  yle  what  an  uncontrollable 
grimace  is  to  the  countenance.  Neither  is  a  thing  of 
beauty.  Words  not  inelegant  in  themselves  become  so 
through  pedestrian  associations  which  colloquial  usage 
affixes  to  them.  Our  Yankee  favorite  "guess"  is  a 
perfectly  good  word,  pure  English,  of  good  stock,  and 
long  standing  in  the  language.     A  better  word,  in  itself 


LBCT.  xvxi.J  iJSfELEGAXT   VOCABDXART.  289 

considered,  we  have  not  in  English  use.  But  because 
it  is  a  colloquial  favorite,  used  by  everybody,  on  every 
variety  of  subject  and  occasion,  and  often  in  a  degraded 
sense,  as  in  the  compound  "  guess-work,"  it  has  become 
vulgar  in  the  sense  of  "common;"  so  that  in  many 
connections  in  which  the  real  meaning  of  it  would  be 
entirely  pertinent,  the  word  would  be  inelegant.  "  Con- 
jecture," or  some  equivalent,  must  take  its  place. 

Wordsworth's  poetry,  again,  is  not  wholly  defensible 
from  the  charge  of  using  in  poetic  measure  an  inelegant 
vocabulary.  He  believed  in  the  poetry  of  common 
things,  common  thoughts,  common  people,  and  their 
common  affairs.  It  was  tlie  aim  of  his  life  to  lift  up 
into  the  atmosphere  of  romance  things  lowly  and  ob- 
scure. "  The  Excursion  "  wrought  in  this  respect  one 
of  the  silent  revolutions  of  literature  in  the  direct  in- 
terest of  Christianity.  But,  in  his  attempt  to  effect  that 
revolution,  he  did  lean  to  an  extreme.  E^'en  his  regal 
imagination  could  not  dignify  such  lines  as  tliese ; 
viz. : — 

"A  household  tub,  like  one  of  those 
Whioh  women  use  to  wash  their  clothes." 

But  an  objector  inquires,  and  perhaps  with  half-sup- 
pressed indignation,  "  Is  it  not  good  English?  and,  if  so, 
must  we  drop  it  because  it  is  not  elegant  ?  "  I  answer 
yes  to  both  queries.  It  is  good  English,  yet  not  good 
poetry.  If  the  idea  is  to  be  expressed  at  all  in  p(»etry, 
—  and  I  do  not  deny  that  it  may  be  so  expressed  as  to 
escape  criticism,  —  it  must  be  by  such  a  choice  of  Ian 
guage  as  shall  conceal  the  steam  and  the  soap  of  a 
washtub  under  some  euphemism  which  shall  be  to  the 
idea  what  the  rainbow,  which  is  sometimes  seen  ovei  a 
washtub,  is  to  that  ver}  necessary  but  homely  article  of 


290  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  xvu 

household  use.  When  beauty  is  to  be  expressed,  we 
must  have  a  choice  vocabulary.  If  Thomas  Hood  could, 
by  *'  The  Song  of  the  Shirt,"  throw  a  poetic  halo  over  a 
very  humble  article  of  his  daily  toilet,  why  may  not 
his  equal  do  the  same  service  for  the  weekly  laundry? 
But  not  by  the  extreme  literalism  of  Wordsworth's 
vocabulary. 

Constructions,  also,  are  exposed  to  peril  of  inelegance. 
Certain  varieties  of  them  impress  us,  first  and  last  and 
always,  with  their  want  of  ease  ;  and,  uo  ease,  no  beauty. 
It  is  as  difficult  to  define  them  as  to  create  them,  yet 
illustration  by  examples  would  tax  youv  patience  beyond 
endurance.  Few  things  are  so  unutterably  dull  as  spe- 
cimens of  faulty  construction  in  discourse,  unless  they 
are  of  the  comic  sort ;  and  those  would  not  be  to  the 
present  purpose.  Perhaps  the  following  hints  will  be 
sufficient  to  recall  them  to  you  in  your  reading. 

One  is  the  bungling  construction  of  dependent  clauses. 
These  are  huddled  together,  and  seem  to  tumble  over 
each  other.  Mellifluous  utterance  of  them  is  impracti- 
cable. The}^  are  the  despair  of  the  elocutionist.  They 
seem  as  if  the  sole  ambition  of  the  writer  had  been  to 
be  able  to  say,  as  De  Quincey  said  of  the  German  sen- 
tence, "  They  are  all  there."  Another  is  the  military 
sentence.  The  materials  march  out  as  if  on  drill. 
They  drop  into  rank  too  knowin?;ly  to  be  lively.  Ex- 
cess of  order  is  never  beautiful,  because  never  lifelike. 
Another  is  the  misplaced  or  excessive  inversion  of  struc- 
ture. The  thoughts  appear  to  move  like  a  crab ;  are 
dragged  forth,  —  the  first  last,  and  the  last  first,  and  all 
looking  the  wrong  way,  —  after  the  manner  of  the  stolen 
oxen  backing  into  the  cave  of  Cacus.  Another  is  the 
dislocated  structure.  Connectives  are  either  absent,  or 
misplaced,  cr  meaningless.  The  style  jolts,  like  an  un 
easy  vehicle  on  corduroy  roads. 


W,CT.  XVII.]  INELEGANT   :.MAGERY.  291 

These  constructions  may  be  sufficiently  peispicuous. 
They  are  often  consistent  with  a  good  degree  cf  energy. 
Cromwell's  speeches  are  full  of  them.  Yet  he  made 
himself  understood,  and  so  well  understood  that  the 
Enslish  Parliament  did  not  care  to  ask  him  what  he 
meant  a  second  time.  But  such  constructions  are  not 
elegant.  There  is  no  comeliness  in  them.  It  would  be 
a  hard  task  to  set  Cromwell's  speeches  to  the  measure 
of  a  chant,  or  even  to  make  an  Italian,  with  vocal  organs 
trained  to  the  most  euphonious  language  in  the  world, 
rehearse  them  at  all. 

A  similar  defect  betrays  itself  in  inelegance  of  imagery. 
Imagery  is  painting  in  words :  any  blemish  impairs  its 
beauty.  Therefore  coarse  imagery  can  not  express  beauty 
in  thought.  Imagery  the  picture  of  which  disgusts  the 
mind's  eye  degrades  the  thought  it  represents.  This  is 
sometimes  the  designed  effect.  Macaulay  designs  it 
when  he  says,  "  After  the  Restoration,  peerages  were 
sold  at  Whitehall  scarcely  less  openly  than  asparagus 
at  Covent  Garden,  or  herrings  at  Billingsgate."  The 
image  of  an  English  coronet  side  by  side  with  a  bunch 
of  asparagus  and  a  red  herring  paints  the  degradation  of 
the  peerage  as  no  literal  description  could.  But  Jeremy 
Taylor  wrought  the  same  effect,  though  undesignedly, 
when  he  compared  the  sufferings  of  Christ  to  "an  um- 
brella," because  "  men  used  them  to  shelter  unholy 
living." 

For  the  same  reason,  commonplace  iiv  imagery  can  not 
express,  and  still  less  can  it  impress,  the  beautiful  in 
thought.  A  metaphor  elegantly  impressive  when  it  was 
new  may  degrade  an  idea  now  because  of  its  excessive 
use.  Imagery  wears  out,  as  the  gloss  of  silk  does.  The 
metaphor  of  the  pebble,  which  creates  ever-widening 
rings  when  dropped  into  the  water,  is  an  example.    Few 


292  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  xvu. 

figures  of  speech  bear  criticism  better  than  this.  When 
it  was  original,  it  can  scarcely  have  had  its  superior 
for  beauty  or  suggestiveness.  But  does  the  memory  of 
man  go  back  to  the  time  when  it  was  original?  It  is 
exhausted  :  it  needs  to  be  allowed  to  slumber  in  obliv- 
ion. It  should  be  disused  till  a  future  age  shall  re- 
invent it.  So  powerful  is  originality  in  pictured  speech, 
that  it  will  often  ennoble  a  commonplace  thought.  A 
conception  which  we  had  ceased  to  feel  the  force  of 
because  of  our  monotonous  familiarity  with  it,  an  ori- 
ginal figure  will  often  uplift,  somewhat  as  death  hallows 
in  our  memory  a  commonplace  character. 

Again :  unfinished  imagery  can  not  express  beauty  in 
thought.  A  metaphor  unsustained,  and  therefore  incom- 
plete, conveys  no  impression  of  elegance.  Yet,  on  the 
other  hand,  finical  imagery  is  equall}^  powerless.  To  be 
overwrought  changes  imagery  to  finery.  The  impres- 
sion is  that  of  pettiness,  not  of  beauty.  What  is  the 
defect  in  the  message  of  the  martyr  Ridley  to  his  fellow- 
sufferer  Hooper  as  they  were  going  to  the  stake? — "We 
have  been  two  in  white :  let  us  be  one  in  red ! ""  It 
speaks  something  for  the  nerve  of  a  man,  that  he  can 
crack  his  joke  within  sight  of  the  pile  which  Avill  soon 
shrivel  his  tongue  to  a  cinder.  But  what  can  we  say 
for  the  good  taste  of  a  man  who  can  so  treat  such  a 
death?  We  might  expect  it  from  a  hunter  in  the  back- 
woods, in  view  of  Indian  torture,  but  not  from  a  bishop 
of  the  Church  of  England. 

Further:  mongrel  imagery  does  not  express  beauty. 
Above  all  things  else,  beauty  is  self-consistent.  Incon- 
gruity is  death  to  it.  At  an  international  exhibition  of 
the  industrial  arts  in  Vienna,  I  once  saw  the  figure  of  a 
kneeling  Samuel,  of  the  size  of  life,  molded  of  castile- 
Boap.     Why  was  it  not  "  a  thing  of  beauty  "  ?     Yft  it- 


LECT.  xvn.]         ELEGANCE   AS    A    TRIBUTARY.  293 

Bishop  Heber  more  successful  in  his  attempt  to  improve 
the  magnificent  imagery  of  Milton  ?  Milt  )n  sees  in 
poetic  vision  "  the  gates  of  heaven  on  golden  hingea 
turning."  Why  is  it  that  Heber  fails,  when  he  attempts 
to  save  himself  from  plagiarism  by  representing  the  gates 
of  heaven  as  "  rolling  back  on  their  starry  hinges  "  ? 

Before  leaving  this  class  of  offenses  against  elegance  in 
style,  it  is  worthy  of  remark,  that,  by  avoiding  them,  a 
certain  degree  of  beauty  may  be  infused  into  other  quali- 
ties of  style.  The  polish  of  a  steel  blade  contributes  to 
the  keenness  of  its  edge :  so  elegance  may  enhance  per- 
spicuity, or  precision,  cr  energy  of  language.  True,  in 
such  a  combination,  elegance  is  subordinate.  The  style 
is  not  constructed  for  it ;  the  blade  is  not  made  for  the 
polish :  but,  as  a  tributary,  it  serves  the  purposes  of 
other  qualities  of  style.  An  air  of  elegance  may  be 
imparted  to  the  most  forcible  style  by  the  choice  of 
a  select  vocabulary,  by  finish  of  construction,  and  by  a 
delicate  congruity  of  imagery.  Energy  is  not  always 
convulsive.  What  was  the  defect  of  the  style  of  an 
eminent  preacher  in  Maine,  who,  speaking  of  men's 
rejection  of  Christ,  said  that  ".they  treated  him  as  they 
would  a  rotten  apple  "  ?  It  surely  was  not  obscurity ; 
it  was  not  weakness  :  it  was  a  want  of  that  sensitive 
taste  which  ought  to  breathe  its  delicate  sense  of  fit- 
ness into  the  plainest  phraseology  and  the  roughest 
imagery. 

In  the  works  of  nature,  it  is  remarkable  how  often 
force  and  beauty  are  ranged  side  by  side.  In  their 
impression  on  the  beholder,  they  often  intenningle. 
Flowers  skirt  the  bases  of  volcanoes :  rainbows  grace 
the  retiring  thunder-storms.  In  the  Falls  of  Niagara,  the 
predominance  of  beaut}^  or  of  sublimity  depends  on  the 
mood  of  the  spectator,  both  are  so  affluent  in  their  di& 


294  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lkct.  xvh 

plaj.  Charles  Dickens  expressed  the  expeiienco  of  the 
majority  of  thoughtful  travelers  in  looking  upon  them, 
when  he  said,  after  giving  utterance  to  his  overpower- 
ing sense  of  their  sublimity,  that  the  final  and  perma- 
nent impression  of  them,  which  would  live  in  his 
memory,  was  that  of  their  beauty.  Would  not  this  be 
almost  the  sole  impression  made  by  them  u[)on  the  mind 
of  a  deaf  man,  to  whom  they  would  present  a  picture 
only,  not  modified  by  the  sound  of  mighty  waters  ? 

Similar  combinations  t.f  energy  and  elegance  are  found 
in  human  character.  The  choicest  characters  always 
contain  them.  The  world's  perfect  ideal  of  a  man  is 
that  of  a  (jcntlc-man.  Coleridge  remarked,  that  he  had 
never  met  with  a  truly  great  man  who  had  not  a  large 
infusion  of  feminine  qualities.  One  is  impressed  by 
the  truth  of  the  sentiment  in  reading  the  memoir  of 
Daniel  Webster.  The  ideal  which  history  gives  us  of  a 
military  character  is  one  in  which  gentleness  adorns 
the  heroic  graces.  The  Christian  ideal  of  manly  force 
is  that  of  executive  power  wreathed  with  passive  virtues. 
The  same  blending  of  opposites  is  seen  in  the  best 
materials  of  thought  for  the  work  of  the  pulpit.  That 
which  we  call  the  ''  force  of  truth ''  is  often  the  more 
forceful  for  being  tempered  and  adorned  with  the  femi 
nine  qualities  of  thought,  and  therefore  with  the  ele 
gant  graces  of  expression.  They  are  best  expressed 
b^''  a  select  vocabulary,  by  finished  constructions,  and  by 
congruous  imagery. 

The  fact  is  worthy  of  special  mention,  that  the  cidti- 
vation  of  a  taste  for  beauty  in  style  is  promoted  by  a 
study  of  the  Old  Testament.  Dr.  Henr}-  More  &a3"s 
that  "a  man  of  coiillned  education,  but  of  good  parts, 
by  constant  readii.g  of  the  Bible  will  naturally  form  a 
more  winning  and  commanding  rhetoric  than  those  who 


LECT.  xvn.]  THE   PRECATIVE    STYLE.  296 

are  learned."  This  is  specially  true  of  those  elements 
of  colloquial  dialect  which  involve  an  exercise  of  the 
hnagination.  It  was  remarked  by  the  friends  of  Pro- 
fessor Stuart,  that,  after  he  had  reached  the  age  of  sixty 
years,  the  effect  of  his  study  of  the  Hebrew  Scriptures 
was  seen  in  a  manifest  quickening  of  his  fancy.  He 
was  in  this  respect  more  youthful  in  his  old  age  than  in 
his  early  manhood.  His  daily  chanting  of  a  Hebrew 
Psalm  in  his  study  as  a  prelude  to  the  labor  of  the  day 
infused  a  glow  of  beauty  into  his  written  pages. 

You  will  observe  the  same  effect  of  the  Scriptures 
often  in  the  style  of  extemporaneous  prayer.  Uncon- 
sciously, one  acquires  from  reverent  familiarity  with  the 
Bible,  and  specially  with  its  more  ancient  records,  a 
certain  aptness  and  finish  of  devotional  dialect  which 
no  expedient  of  rhetorical  art  can  achieve  so  well.  The 
perfection  of  liturgic  style  is  the  fruit  of  a  mature  Chris- 
tian experience  regulated  in  its  liturgic  expression  by 
a  profound  biblical  taste.  It  is  not  the  mechanical  use 
of  biblical  quotation  by  the  sheer  lift  of  memory,  but 
the  creation  of  one's  own  style  and  the  expression  of 
one's  own  individuality  by  inspiration  from  biblical 
taste.  If  you  Avish  to  become  master  of  the  richest 
forms  of  public  prayer,  do  not  seek  them  chiefly  in 
printed  liturgies.  Seek  them  in  the  precative  and  the 
lyric  style  of  the  Bible  and  in  the  unconscious  imita- 
tion of  it  by  eminent  saints.  Aged  Christians  are  often 
models  of  power  in  public  prayer,  chiefly  becaase  of 
their  unconscious  utterance  of  a  profound  religious  life 
under  the  sway  of  biblical  ideals,  which  to  them  may  be 
the  only  ideals  they  know  of  lofty  intellectual  culture. 
One  of  the  most  inspiring  leaders  in  social  prayer  that 
I  ever  knew  was  a  plain  sea-captain,  whose  almost  onljf 
literary  possession  was  the  Bible. 


206  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [i.ect.  xvii. 

The  views  here  presented  of  the  value  of  ii  refined 
taste  to  the  style  of  the  pulpit  need  to  be  balanced  by 
a  notice  of  the  fact  that  luxuriousness  of  taste  results 
in  languor  of  style.  This  is  the  chief  peril  of  a  studied 
beauty  in  the  forms  of  language.  Composition  is  an 
art.  Elegant  composition  is  a  fine  art.  But  it  is  liable 
to  this  abuse :  a  fastidious  taste  attenuates  thought 
The  style  which  grows  out  of  it  tends  to  elaborated  fee- 
bleness through  its  expression  of  morbid  sensibilities. 
Dr.  Arnold,  for  example,  says,  of  the  closing  lines  of 
Wordsworth's  Ode  on  Immortality  — 

"  To  me  the  meanest  flower  that  breathes  can  gi\'e 
Thoughts  that  do  often  lie  too  deep  for  tears  "  — 

that  they  are  not  founded  upon  a  genuine  Christian 
taste.  He  contends,  that,  in  such  a  world  as  this,  the 
Christian  theory  of  life  does  not  foster  such  exquisite 
sensibility  towards  such  inferior  objects.  A  hectic  beauty 
is  not  natural  beauty;  neither  is  the  style  prompted  by 
a  sickly  taste  the  style  of  the  most  manly  Christian 
thought. 

National  literatures,  so  far  as  we  can  trace  the  stages 
of  their  decline,  die  first  at  this  point  of  effeminate  taste. 
Softening  of  the  national  brain  begins  in  the  organ  of 
ideality.  Violent  death  never  comes  upon  a  great  lit- 
erature in  its  adult  strength.  Barbarian  irruptions, 
usurpations  in  government,  and  the  conflagration  of 
libraries,  have  come  upon  nations  after  literary  decline 
has  begun  to  show  itself.  The  fatal  and  often  the  first 
clear  sign  that  a  nation  deserves  and  is  doomed  to 
receive  such  visitations  appears  in  the  breaking-out  of 
a  diseased  luxuriousness  of  taste  in  its  literature,  after 
a  period  of  high  culture.  One  part  in  the  literary  mis- 
sion of  Christianity  is  to  rescue  literature  from  this  ten 


LECT.  XVII.]  THE   CHRISTIAN  IIITURH.  207 

dency  to  disease.  This  it  does  by  widening  the  reach 
of  cultured  intellect,  deepening  the  intensity  of  the 
educated  sensibilities,  and  thus  rectifying  the  standards 
of  taste,  and  purifying  and  vitalizing  taste  itself.  We 
must  look  for  revolutions  of  literary  opinion  as.  Chris- 
tianity advances  in  its  sway  over  human  thought.  No 
aisthetic  culture  will  live  finally  but  that  which  is 
Christian  in  its  models.  Educated  Christian  mind, 
therefore,  should  be  constantly  feeling  its  way  upward. 
The  world's  literary  future  should  be  anticipated  with 
a  trust  like  that  of  the  old  Hebrew  Messianic  fore- 
thought. 


LECTURE   XVIII. 


ELEGANCE    OF    STYLE;    DEPENDENT    ON   VIVIDNESS,    ON 
VARIETY. 


II.  The  analysis  of  beauty  in  a  previous  Lecture  leads 
us  to  consider  elegance  of  style  as  dependent,  in  the 
second  place,  on  the  element  of  vividness. 

Is  vagueness  of  impression  ever  desirable  in  the  ex- 
pression of  thought  by  language  ?  I  answer,  it  is  some- 
times a  necessity,  but  never  where  beauty  of  impression 
is  the  chief  aim  of  the  discourse.  Always  a  greater  or 
less  degree  of  vividness  enters  into  our  sense  of  the 
beautiful.  Why  is  a  diamond  the  most  beautiful  of 
gems  ?  Why  is  it  the  only  gem  of  which  use  never 
tires  ?  Dealers  in  precious  stones  say  that  the  popular 
taste  for  it  never  even  wavers.  It  is  always  salable, 
and  is  the  standard  by  which  the  value  of  other  gems 
is  estimated.  Yet  the  diamond  has  no  beauty  but  its 
brilliancy.  The  human  eye  is  the  most  vital  organ  in 
producing  the  im])ression  of  beauty  in  a  human  counte- 
nance, because  it  is  the  most  vivid  object  in  the  coun- 
tenance. Poets  describe  the  sun  as  the  "  golden  eye  " 
of  the  heavens.  The  eye  suggests  life  :  it  is  life.  All 
varieties  of  beauty  in  the  eye  possess  this  quality.  The 
languid  eye  with  drooping  e3'elash,  if  it  expresses  beauty, 
is  never  dull.  It  may  represent  life  in  repose,  but  still, 
life  :  no  beauty  of  countenance  fascinates  if  it  is  blurred 
by  a  dull  eye.  A  corresponding  principle  appertains  to 
thought  as  expressed  in  language.     Vividness,  in  degree 

298 


fECT    xvni.J  VIVIDNESS   OF   STYLE.  299 

less  or  greater,  is  essential  to  all  expression  of  beauty 
ill  human  speech. 

Yet,  pursuing  the  analysis  a  little  farther,  we  find 
that  beauty  does  not  demand  or  admit  of  vividness  in 
the  superlative  degree.  The  brilliancy  of  an .  insane 
eye  is  not  beautiful :  it  rather  startles  or  affrights  the 
beholder,  as  the  lightning  does,  and  for  a  similar  reason. 
It  is  not  eas}^  to  define  the  degree  of  vividness  beyond 
which  beauty  vanishes.  In  some  cases,  that  degree  is 
very  great.  We  have  a  definite  and  truthful  idea  when 
we  speak  of  magnificent  beauty,  of  gorgeous  beauty, 
of  dazzling  beauty,  of  resplendent  beauty.  These,  and 
their  equivalents  in  our  vocabulary,  indicate  the  com- 
mon consent  to  the  consistency  of  very  great  vividness 
of  impression  with  beauty  in  effect.  But  there  is  a 
line  at  which  vividness  passes  over  from  the  realm  of 
the  beautiful  to  that  of  the  forcible  or  the  sublime,  and, 
in  its  extreme,  to  that  of  the  terrific. 

Perhaps  a  suflSciently  definite  qualification  of  the 
vividness  which  beauty  demands  is  to  say,  that  it  must 
be  such  as  shall  consist  with  that  delicacy  of  impression 
which  we  have  seen  to  be  an  -equal  element  of  beauty 
in  discourse.  In  the  most  overpowering  beauty  we 
shall  find  something  which  tempers  vividness  with  refine- 
ment. In  a  tropical  flower  of  high-wrought  coloring  we 
shall  find  refinement  of  texture,  or  gracefulness  of  out- 
line, or  delicacy  in  the  shading  of  colors,  or  prismatic 
reflection  of  tints  in  the  sunlight,  —  something  which 
screens  our  taste  fnun  the  gairish  effulgence  of  intense 
colors  upon  the  eye :  otherwise  we  do  not  call  it  beau- 
tiful, but  gaudy.  The  same  combination  of  principles 
holds  good  in  style.  Vividness  of  thouglit  in  high 
degree,  yet  such  degree  as  shall  consist  with  delicate 
impression  on  the  whole,  is  the  requisition  of  beauty. 


300  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  xym 

The  bearing  of  these  principles  upon  elegance  of  style 
will  be  seen  in  several  inferences. 

1.  We  infer  the  obvious  truth  that  elegance  demands 
distinctness  of  thought.  To  some  minds,  whose  con- 
ception of  force  is  adequate  to  a  strong  style,  the  whole 
idea  of  beauty  is  hazy.  It  conies  to  their  consciousness 
through  an  uncultivated  instinct.  Hence  it  is,  that 
juvenile  attempts  at  the  beautiful  in  language  often 
result  in  crowded  symbols  which  suggest  only  general 
ideas,  and  these  diffusely,  perhaps  tautologicidly.  Sim- 
iles and  metaphors,  and  rotund  words,  and  rhythmical 
constructions,  are  heaped  into  a  page  without  stint,  not 
because  a  definite  beauty  of  conception  is  so  refracted 
and  multiplied  to  the  mind's  eye  as  to  demand  such  a 
variety  of  elegant  forms,  but  because  a  misty  notion  of 
that  beauty  is  in  the  writer's  mind,  and  he  hastens  to 
give  it  shape  by  the  patches  of  finery  which  he  has  on 
hand.  It  is  one  of  the  thousand  deformities  of  style  in 
which  form  alone  is  made  to  do  the  work  of  thought. 
The  hollowness  of  it  rings  in  the  ear  of  a  discerning 
critic.  The  only  adequate  corrective  of  such  a  defect 
is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  intenser  thinking.  The 
writer  is  not  yet  master  of  his  work.  He  has  not  dis- 
covered the  original  of  the  image  which  has  charmed 
him  in  his  dream.  He  does  not  know  whether  it  is  an 
angel,  or  a  woman,  or  a  mermaid. 

2.  From  the  necessity  of  vividness  to  beauty  in 
speech,  we  infer  further  the  necessity  of  sensitiveness 
of  feeling  to  those  varieties  of  eloquence  in  which  the 
beautiful  predominates.  As  energy  in  st]  le  demands 
force  of  feeling,  elegance  demands  sensitiveness  of  feel- 
ing. Both  are  founded  on  the  same  principle.  The 
thing  expressed  must  find  its  kindred  in  the  emotive 
condition  of  the  writer.     No  man  can  write  vividly  who 


LECX.  xvin.]         SENSIBILITY    IN   PREACHING.  301 

does  not  write  with  feeling  of  some  kind.  But  there  is 
a  vast  difference  between  the  feeling  of  one  who  is  tor- 
mented by  a  truth,  and  that  of  one  who  broods  over  a 
truth  affectionately,  or  carries  on  a  mental  play  with  it. 

Are  there  not  some  preachers  who  impress  you  chiefly 
with  a  sense  of  the  hardness  of  their  natures?  Their 
discourses  may  be  solid,  packed  with  thought,  loaded 
with  latent  force ;  yet  they  seem  to  grind  like  a  mill- 
stone. The  defect  in  such  preachers  is  in  their  emotive 
nature.  They  have  no  play  of  sensibility,  no  wavelets 
of  feeling,  none  of  the  tell-tale  of  a  mobile  countenance. 
Their  style  betrays  all  this  on  the  principle  of  Buffon, 
that  the  style  of  a  man  is  the  man  himself.  President 
Grant  disclosed  this  cast  of  mind,  when  at  the  World's 
Jubilee  in  Boston,  after  listening  to  the  most  illustrious 
musicians  of  the  age,  he  said  that  the  most  melodious 
thing  he  had  heard  there  was  the  artillery. 

Ministers  of  this  mold  are  seldom  or  never  great 
preachers.  They  may  be  great  as  men  of  affairs,  wise 
on  committees,  forceful  in  executive  miscellanies ;  but 
they  have  too  much  wisdom,  and  too  little  of  emotive 
spontaneousness,  to  be  great  preachers.  So  far  as  my 
observation  goes,  men  noted  for  their  reticence  are  not 
mighty  in  the  pulpit.  Certain  powers  which  enter  into 
all  eloquence  are  reticent  in  them  there.  Such  men  are 
seldom  versatile  in  illustrative  preaching.  Close  rea- 
soners  thev  may  be  in  argumentative  preaching ;  but 
for  the  want  of  mobile  sensibilities,  which  express  them- 
selves in  pictorial  forms  of  speech,  they  are  doomed  to 
be  uninteresting,  and  therefore  their  argument  can  not 
get  a  hearing.  Delicate  and  winsome  discourse  is  not 
possible  to  such  men  in  their  present  state  of  culture. 
He  that  winneth  souls  is  not  of  that  make. 

It  will  be  instructive  to  observe  the  singular  analogy 


302  ENGLISH   STVLE.  [lect    xtiu. 

which  exists  in  this  respect  between  the  work  of  the 
pulpit  and  that  of  the  fine  arts.  Painters  and  sculptors 
say  that  beautj-  in  their  arts  is  the  most  difheult  thing 
to  execute  well.  It  is  far  more  easy  to  represent  on 
canvas  or  in  marble  great  energy  of  character  or  of 
action  than  to  represent  equally  great  beauty.  Scores 
of  artists  can  execute  Centaurs  and  Laocoons,  whero 
one  can  execute  a  Venus.  The  dog  Csrberus  can  be 
pictured  by  many  a  pencil  whicli  could  not  portray  the 
meeting  of  Orpheus  and  Eurydice.  So  is  it  in  the  kin- 
dred art  of  poetr}'.  The  most  marvelous  creations  of 
Shakspeare  are  his  feminine  characters.  Othello  is  more 
easily  drawn  than  Desdemona. 

3.  From  the  necessity  of  vividness  to  beauty  we  infer, 
again,  the  value  of  original  thought  as  the  material  of 
elegance  in  style.  Thought  which  a  writer  feels  to  be 
his  own,  he  will  most  readily  express  with  sensitive 
emotion.  Even  commonplace  thought  is  made  vivid  by 
fresh  emotion  in  the  speaker.  Let  commonplaces  be  so 
worked  over  in  the  mind  of  the  preacher  that  his  sen- 
sibility to  them  is  quickened  to  a  new  degree  of  exercise, 
and  that  freshness  of  sensibility  becomes,  in  its  effect 
on  style,  the  equivalent  of  originality.  Oral  discourse 
has  in  this  respect  an  obvious  advantage  over  written 
style.  It  gives  a  speaker  opportunity  to  throw  the 
whole  force  of  the  man  into  his  utterances. 

Here  lies  the  secret  of  the  power  of  some  preachers 
in  handling  the  least  exciting  topics  of  religion.  The 
great  majority  of  the  themes  of  the  pulpit  bordf  r  on 
the  commonplace  in  the  hearing  of  a  Christianized 
people.  The  best  themes,  those  which  the  people  need 
most  imperatively,  are  not  novelties:  they  are  the  old 
truths,  the  old  doctrines,  the  old  duties,  the  old  texts. 
That  class  of  preachers  p  ;ssess  a  great  gift,  who   can 


LKCT.  xvni.]  SEVLPLICITy   IN   STYLE.  303 

infuse  into  these  time-worn  verities  the  originality  of 
revelations.  The  value  of  a  profound  and  varied  reli- 
gious experience  is  discovered  in  such  preaching;  and 
this  especially  in  its  treatment  of  the  more  delicate  con- 
ceptions of  religious  truth.  The  majority  of  such  con- 
ceptions have  their  origin  in  the  personal  experience 
of  some  believer.  The  biblical  forms  of  them  were 
inspired  through  the  medium  of  a  personal  religious 
life.  We  owe  them  largely  to  the  failures,  the  sins,  the 
chastisements,  the  struggles,  the  penitence,  the  faith, 
the  joy,  of  holy  men.  They  speak  with  power  to  a 
similar  experience  in  all  ages ;  and,  to  speak  thus  from 
the  pulpit,  they  need  to  speak  through  a  corresponding 
personal  experience  of  the  preacher.  A  most  profound 
but  much  neglected  principle  of  power  in  preaching  is 
this  occult  affinity  of  the  7nan  in  the  pulpit  Avith  the 
man  in  the  inspired  message.  The  more  sensitive  that 
affinity  is,  the  more  absolute  is  a  preacher's  mastery  of 
those  refinements  of  truth  which  enter  the  hearts  of 
men  as  the  dawn  illumines  their  liomes.  The  power 
of  such  preaching  is  a  still  power,  but  it  lias  no  superior 
among  all  the  arts  of  public  speech.  For  the  want  of 
it,  some  preachers  never  rise  above  the  level  of  argu- 
ment and  hortation.  Their  argument  is  dry,  and  their 
hortation  stale. 

4.  From  the  necessity  of  vividness  as  an  element  of 
beauty,  we  infer  further,  as  a  general  fact,  the  necessity 
of  simplicity  of  language  to  an  elegant  style.  No  other 
quality  than  beauty  makes  sucli  an  imperative  demand 
ior  transparency.  One  of  the  most  invariable  concom- 
itants of  beauty  in  language  is  the  absence  of  all 
appearance  of  effort.  It  is  the  production  of  a  mind 
at  ease.  Why  are  the  biblical  narratives  such  perfect 
Bpecimens  of  elegance  in  historic  style?     The  fact  is 


304  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  x\iu. 

often  observed,  that  the  evangelists,  in  their  reminis- 
cences of  our  Lord,  never  employ  a  commendatory 
epithet  in  description  of  his  person.  Contrast,  in  this 
respect,  St.  John  with  Homer.  Beauty  is  the  offspring 
of  leisure.  The  writer  seems  not  to  go  in  search  of,  oi 
to  struggle  for,  any  thing;  he  takes  and  gives  what 
comes  to  him. 

But  the  necessity  of  simplicity  to  elegant  expression 
is  a  general  principle :  it  has  exceptions.  Profusion 
and  intricacy  of  beauty  in  thought  have  their  correla- 
tives in  style.  The  usual  canons  of  criticism  respecting 
simplicity  must  be  accepted  with  qualifications.  A  cul- 
tivated taste  recoils  so  sensitively  from  an  affected  style, 
that  it  often  expresses  its  demand  for  a  simple  diction 
in  hyperbole. 

EXCUKSUS. 

A  brief  excursus  is  pertinent  here,  on  the  usage  of 
literary  criticism  in  its  commendation  of  the  style  of 
Addison.  For  a  century  past,  critics  have  never  wearied 
of  lauding  the  calm,  lucid,  pure,  colloquial  simplicity  of 
"  The  Spectator."  In  the  main  they  have  been  right ; 
but  their  dictum  has  become  extreme  in  becoming  exclu- 
sive. Addison  followed,  in  the  history  of  English  style, 
a  class  of  writers  who  had  nauseated  manl}^  taste  by 
their  magniloquence.  They  were  conceited  in  thought, 
and  stilted  in  expression.  The  advent  of  Addison  gave 
relief  to  the  literary  mind  of  England  by  his  homelike 
and  sincere  diction,  similar  to  that  which  a  hearer  feels 
when  a  natural  speaker  follows  a  bombastic  one.  The 
consequence  was,  that  Addison  so  fascinated  readers  as 
to  carry  them  over  to  the  opposite  extreme  of  literary 
taste.  His  noble  connections,  also,  and  his  official  rank, 
lent  an  artificial  glamour  to  his  example  ;  and,  from  that 


LKCT.  xviii.J  THE   STYLE   OF   ADDISON.  305 

day  to  this,  his  style  has  been  pressed  upon  the  study 
of  youthful  writers  as  a  model  without  exception,  and 
almost  without  a  rival.  No  other  name  in  English  lit- 
erature is  adduced  so  often  in  rhetorical  criticism  as 
that  of  a  master  of  English  style.  He  has  been  held 
up  to  admiration  and  to  imitation  with  an  exclusiveness 
of  praise  which  no  man's  style  has  ever  deserved,  or,  in 
the  nature  of  tilings  can  deserve. 

In  the  first  place,  Addison's  style  is  the  style  of  au 
author,  not  of  an  orator ;  a  fact  wholly  overlooked  in 
the  general  drift  of  criticism  upon  his  works.  Again  : 
as  the  style  of  an  author,  it  is  but  one  style,  a  rep- 
resentative style,  indeed,  but  still  one  onlj^,  and  by  no 
means  unlimited  in  its  range  of  adaptations.  No  style 
can  be  universally  and  unexceptionably  good.  Addi- 
son's is  no  more  unconditionally  a  good  model  than  that 
of  Dr.  Johnson,  with  which  it  is  commonly  contrasted. 
No  preacher  can  gain  a  very  broad  mastery  of  expres- 
sion in  the  pulpit  who  forms  his  style  on  the  model  of 
Addison  alone.  In  oral  address  the  style  of  Addison 
is  apt  to  degenerate  into  colloquial  platitudes.  He 
seldom,  if  ever,  wrote  on  subjects  which  admitted  of 
intensity  of  diction  :  at  least,  he  never  wrote  intensely. 
He  had  Jiot  an  intense  mind :  he  entertained  no  intense 
convictions.  Truth  never  tormented  him  to  give  it 
utterance. 

Specially,  in  the  expression  of  complicated  beauty, 
the  model  which  Addison  illustrates  is  almost  sure  to 
become,  in  the  mouth  of  a  preacher,  unsuggestive,  and 
therefore  dull.  Beauty  is  often  intricate  in  combina 
tions,  and  gorgeous  in  its  display.  The  Greek  mind 
expressed  its  conception  of  this  by  the  Corinthian  order 
of  columnar  architecture.  There  is  a  style  in  composi- 
tion, and  specially  in  oratory,  which  has  this  Corinthian 


306  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  irm 

beauty ;  and  it  is  a  style  of  which  scarcely  an  illustra 
tion  can  be  found  in  Addison's  writings.  This  Corin- 
thian style  some  critics  would  pronounce  florid,  yet  it 
abounds  in  the  works  of  nature.  The  pencilings  and 
shapes  of  foliage,  tlie  hues  of  flowers,  the  architecture 
of  trees,  the  configuration  of  clouds,  the  sculpture  of 
stalactites  in  caves,  reproduce  that  of  which  the  Corin- 
thian column  and  its  elaborated  capital,  with  its  fine 
tracery  of  the  olive-leaf  or  acanthus,  were  the  expres- 
sion to  the  Greek  sense  of  beauty.  Are  these  florid? 
Human  ideality  repeats  the  same  thing  in  painting  and 
sculpture  and  music.  Wh}'  should  not  language,  indeed, 
wli}'  must  it  not,  picture  and  carve  and  build  the  same 
conception  of  beauty  in  elaborate  mechanism  of  style? 
It  is  a  mechanism  which  yet  is  no  mechanism,  but  a 
growth,  because  it  springs  from  intuitions  which  must 
express  themselves  so,  or  be  dumb. 

5.  From  the  dependence  of  beauty  on  vividness  of 
style,  we  infer,  yet  again,  the  importance  of  an  easy 
command  of  imager}-  to  an  elegant  style.  The  origin 
of  alphabetic  writing  suggests  the  necessit}-  of  imagery 
to  vivid  speech.  The  first  form  of  written  language 
known  to  history  was  the  hieroglyph.  So  the  vividness 
of  written  language  at  present  depends  very  much  upon 
the  relics  of  the  hieroglyphic  element  which  still  remain 
in  every  language,  and  upon  the  imitations  of  it  ori- 
ginated by  authors  in  the  form  of  more  elaborate  im- 
agery. Write  in  pictures,  and  you  can  not  fail  to  write 
vividly.  Imagery  is  essential  to  vivid  expression,  spe- 
cially because  the  vividness  of  beauty  must  be  felt 
intuitively,  not  derived  by  reflective  process.  It  must 
reach  the  mind,  as  vision  does,  by  a  process  which  gives 
no  sense  of  duration. 

III.  The  third   element   named  in    our   analysis   of 


LECr.  xvin.]  VARIETY   OF    STYLE.  307 

beauty  leads  us  tc  consider  elegance  of  style  iis  depend- 
ent on  variety. 

Hogarth's  theory  of  the  "  line  of  beauty  "  depended 
largely  upon  this  element  of  variety.  In  what  does  the 
beauty  of  a  curve  consist?  I  can  discern  in  it  nothing 
definable,  other  than  variety  and  proportion,  A  straight 
line  may  have  pn  portion,  but  it  is  monotonous.  The 
ourve  adds  variety,  and  this  results  in  the  elementary 
figure  which  artists  declare  to  be  inherent  in  all  beauty 
of  form.  A  serpentine  path,  the  careering  of  a  bird 
in  the  air,  Connecticut  River  as  seen  from  Mount  Hol- 
yoke,  the  Rhine  as  seen  from  the  Castle  of  Godesberg, 
—  these,  as  examples  of  figure  and  motion,  are  all  em- 
blems of  beauty  to  which  the  rudest  nature  responds. 
The  rainbow,  the  shifting  of  clouds  at  sunset,  the  plu- 
mage of  a  peacock,  a  mobile  countenance,  —  these,  as 
specimens  of  color,  are  emblems  of  beauty  ;  yet  not  one 
of  them  would  excite  our  sense  of  the  beautiful  with- 
out its  variety.  Music  also,  as  an  example  of  beauty 
in  sound,  can  not  exist  without  variety.  A  drum  has 
none  except  in  time;  and  how  much  beauty  does  a 
drum  suggest? 

The  same  principle  governs  style.  Monotony,  even 
of  that  which  is  in  itself  an  excellence,  destroys  the 
beauty  of  it.  One  critic  defines  the  whole  art  of  com- 
posing as  the  art  of  varying  thought  skillfully.  Cutlers 
tell  us,  that  the  keenest  razor  will  lose  its  temper,  or 
whatever  that  is  which  gives  it  t\e  susceptibility  of 
taking  an  edge,  if  it  is  never  allowed  a  period  of  disuse. 
No  sharpening  process  will  perfect  it  for  use  till  it  has 
for  a  while  been  at  rest.  Hair-dressers  observe  the 
phenomenon,  and  describe  it  by  saying  that  razors  get 
tired,  as  the  hand  does  which  wields  them.  So  is  it 
with  the  rarest  and  keenest  excellence  in  style :  same* 


808  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  xvin 

ness  blunts  it,  in  spite  of  the  ingenuity  exponded  upon 
repairs. 

1.  How  can  variety  of  style  be  most  readily  acquired 
as  a  habit  of  the  pen?  I  answer,  first,  in  sympathy 
with  what  has  been  already  said,  that  variety  of  style 
must  have  its  foundation  in  versatility  of  thought. 
Thought  in  a  versatile  mind  may  compel  variety  in  its 
utterance.  On  the  contrary,  thought  in  a  commonplace 
mind  may  be  so  monotonous,  that  no  art  can  create 
variety  in  its  expression.  Utterance  must  be  what  the 
mind  is  which  thinks  it. 

De  Quincey  illustrates  this  concisely  in  a  criticism  of 
the  prose-stjle  of  Milton.  He  says,  "Milton  is  too 
slow,  solemn,  and  continuous.  .  .  .  He  'polonaises,'  with 
a  grand  Castilian  air,  in  paces  too  sequacious  and  proces- 
sional. Even  in  his  passages  of  merriment  .  .  .  his 
thought  and  his  imagery  appear  to  move  to  the  music 
of  the  organ."  This  want  of  versatile  movement  does 
not  detract  from  the  energy  of  the  Miltonic  style,  but 
it  obliterates  the  sense  of  beauty.  A  certain  degree  of 
agility  is  essential  to  the  utterance  of  beauty.  Even 
the  azure  of  the  sky  would  appeal  rather  to  our  sense 
of  the  sublime  than  to  our  sense  of  the  beautiful,  if  it 
were  never  varied  by  day  and  night,  by  dawn  and  twi- 
light, by  storm  and  sunshine,  and  by  varieties  of  season. 
So  in  style,  that  which  momentarily  is  most  beautiful 
ceases  to  be  so  if  it  never  varies.  We  should  tire  of 
rainbows  if  they  arched  the  heavens  incessantly. 

May  it  not  have  been  one  cause  of  the  beauty  of  the 
Greek  language  and  literature,  that  they  grow  up  among 
a  people  who  were  passionately  fond  of  the  drama? 
"  They  left,"  says  one  critic,  "  for  the  world's  admira- 
tion, theaters,  while  the  Romans  left  amphitheaters." 
The  love  of  the  drama  permeated  the  very  structure  of 
the  Greek  tongue,  as  it  did  the  Greek  taste. 


LECT.  XVIII.]  MENTAL   VERSATILITY.  309 

For  the  uses  of  the  pulpit,  the  following  sugges« 
lions  deserve  notice.  The  elegance  of  a  discourse  as  a 
unique  structure  is  promoted  by  variety  in  the  method 
of  discussion,  by  variety  of  divisions  in  form  and  sub- 
stance, by  variety  in  recapitulations  of  argument,  by 
variety  in  applications.  Any  prolonged  discourse  re- 
quires variation  in  the  keynote  of  the  thought.  Argu- 
ment unmixed  with  illustration,  poetic  aspects  of  truth 
in  unbroken  succession,  declamation  unmingled  with 
didactic  remark,  are  too  wearisome  to  please  the  sense 
of  beauty.  Thought  in  the  most  brilliant  pictures, 
unrelieved  by  passages  of  repose,  satiates  the  sense  of 
beauty.  A  traveler  in  Europe  soon  grows  weary,  and 
therefore  undiscerning,  in  exploring  rapidly  a  choice 
gallery  of  art.  Its  profusion  of  beauty  becomes  monot- 
onous, and  therefore  antagonistic  to  its  own  meaning. 
Mind  sympathizes  with  the  weariness  of  the  eye.  Simi- 
lar is  the  effect  of  that  style  of  discourse  of  which  a 
gallery  of  pictures  is  the  emblem. 

It  is  not  unworthy  of  inspiration  to  believe,  that,  in 
the  construction  of  the  Bible,  God  had  a  special  object 
in  view  in  the  versatility  of  mi-nd,  the  variety  of  ages, 
the  diversity  of  national  conditions  and  temperaments, 
the  multiplicity  of  historic  crises,  and  the  range  of  sub- 
jects, which  are  wrought  into  the  composition  of  the 
volume.  A  book  which  should  have  been  a  unit  in  all 
these  particulars,  rigidly  compact  and  iron-bound,  could 
not  possibly  have  been  so  valuable  for  the  purposes  of 
a  revelation  from  heaven  as  the  Scriptures  are  as  we 
find  them.  That  they  are  Scriptures,  instead  of  Scrip- 
ture, is  a  most  significant  feature  in  their  history  and 
their  destiny. 

If  but  few  directions  could  be  given  for  the  intel- 
lectual culture  of  a  preacher,  one  of  the  few  should 


310  ENGLTSn   STYLE.  [lect.  mil 

surely  be  this :  Cultivate  mental  versatility.  Read  a 
versatile  literature.  Read  other  things  than  sermons. 
Write  other  productions  than  sermons.  Write  reviews, 
essays,  colloquies,  speeches  for  the  platform.  Even 
tales  and  dramas  may  widen  the  range  of  a  preacher's 
pen.  Think  much  outside  of  profesfional  channels. 
Think  variously  and  broadly  within  the  channels  of  the 
profession.  Preach  to  various  classes  of  minds.  Preach 
to  both  sexes,  to  all  conditions  of  social  life,  to  all  ages, 
on  all  varieties  of  biblical  themes,  in  all  methods  of 
oral  discourse,  and  to  all  diversities  of  Christian  expe- 
rience. Keep  out  of  mental  ruts  by  an  intellectual 
regimen  which  shall  make  the  formation  of  such  ruts 
impossible. 

One  of  the  pastors  of  the  city  of  New  York,  forty 
years  ago,  conceived  the  idea,  early  in  his  ministry,  that 
he  could  not  preach  to  children.  That  notion,  with  its 
corollaries,  was  a  blight  upon  his  whole  ministerial  life. 
It  was  a  mental  concession  of  many  other  things  than 
the  one  it  expressed.  It  involved  a  self-exclusion  from 
a  large  range  of  thought  and  subject  and  style  and  feel- 
ing, which  crippled  his  ministry  at  vital  points  at  which 
success  was  indispensable.  It  was  like  wearing  a  spiked 
collar  or  a  crape  veil  through  a  lifetime.  For  twenty 
years  he  preached  to  a  diminutive  audience,  whose 
purses  alone  kept  him  in  his  place.  The  ver}'-  last 
sermon  that  he  published  indicated,  in  its  style  an(? 
structure,  the  professional  rut  of  a  lifetime,  which  re 
quired  precisely  the  discipline  of  preaching  to  children 
to  break  it  up  and  remove  it. 

2.  That  variety  which  elegance  requires  demands, 
also,  a  varied  vocabulary  and  construction.  In  this 
respect  the  most  essential  requisite  is  a  thorough  com- 
mand of  the  synonyms  of  the  language,  and  the  historj 


LECT.  xvni.]  VARIETY   OF   CONSTRUCTION.  311 

of  its  literature.  Good  taste  revolts  from  the  constant 
yet  needless  recurrence  of  the  same  word  or  the  same 
collocation  of  words.  Inelegances  of  construction  are 
easily  corrected  if  attention  is  given  to  them :  they 
are  the  fruit  of  heedless  composing.  The  following  are 
the  chief  of  them;  viz.,  monotony  in  the  length  of 
sentences,  in  the  manner  of  beginning  and  ending  sen- 
tences, in  the  connections  of  the  emphatic  and  depend- 
ent clauses  of  sentences,  in  transitions,  in  the  use  of 
affirmative,  negative,  interrogative,  and  antithetic  struc- 
tures, in  the  use  of  personal  and  impersonal  pronouns, 
in  the  use  of  the  direct  and  the  inverted  orders  of  sen- 
tences, in  the  use  of  some  favorite  peculiarity  of  con- 
struction not  easily  definable  by  criticism. 

One  form  of  favorite  mechanism  in  construction  is 
that  in  which  a  regular  succession  occurs,  like  the  swing 
of  a  pendulum.  In  other  instances  in  which  one  feels 
the  sense  of  monotony,  but  can  not  at  once  detect  the 
cause,  it  is  found,  on  a  closer  scrutiny,  that  the  sentences 
have  more  than  two  variations,  but  they  occur  in  one 
invariable  order,  with  the  sameness  of  a  treadmill.  Dr. 
Johnson's  style  sometimes  falls  into  this  monotone  in 
mechanism.  Hazlitt  criticises  it,  saying  that  to  read 
or  hear  such  passages  from  Johnson's  writings  is  as 
bad  as  being  at  sea  in  a  calm,  in  which  one  feels  the 
everlasting  monotony  of  the  ground-swell.  Charles 
Dickens  sometimes  falls  under  the  tyranny  of  his  ear 
in  composing ;  and  then  his  style  assumes  an  arbitrary 
succession  of  a  few  constructions,  in  which  thought  is 
subordinated  to  euphony  of  expression.  A  roll  and  a 
swell  and  a  return,  in  the  boom  of  the  style,  if  I  may 
speak  so  incongruously,  destroy  the  sense  of  every 
thing  but  the  sound.  One  is  tempted  to  chant  the 
passage. 


312  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [lect.  xviu. 

Minute  criticism  of  constructiou  sometimes  discloses 
a  curious  sympathy  with  certain  geometrical  figures,  so 
regular  is  the  succession  of  triple,  quadruple,  quintuple 
clauses,  so  many  and  no  more,  in  what  De  Quincey  calls 
the  packing  of  a  sentence.  The  passage  reads  or  sounds 
as  if  the  author  were  executing  a  fantastic  wager,  or 
had  a  vow  to  perform  in  honor  of  a  triangle  or  a 
pentagon. 

Criticism  of  defects  like  these  may  seem  like  trifling. 
But  often  some  kind  of  arbitrary  mechanism  like  these, 
not  always  obvious  at  a  glance,  renders  discourse  un- 
gainly, and  therefore  wearisome,  when  the  thought,  if 
we  have  patience  to  evolve  it  from  its  diagram,  is  full 
of  that  material  which  demands  elegant  expression. 
The  human  mind  is  desperately  fond  of  routine.  Make 
a  groove  for  it  in  which  it  may  run  by  the  force  of 
acquired  momentum,  and  it  will  run  on  for  ever  without 
change,  and  therefore  soon  without  life.  This  is  true, 
from  the  most  vital  thought  of  immortal  being  down  to 
the  word  which  drops  from  the  point  of  the  pen.  In 
the  least,  as  in  the  greatest,  nothing  kills  out  life  like 
uniformity.  In  one  aspect  of  it,  the  whole  discipline  of 
humanity  is  aimed  at  the  dislodgement  of  mind  from 
deadly  routine.  Change,  to  the  degree  of  infinite  vari- 
ety, is  the  eternal  law  of  life.  It  pervades  the  philos- 
ophy of  style,  as  it  does  every  other  expression  of 
intellectual  being. 

3.  Furthermore :  that  variety  which  beauty  of  style 
requires  involves  variety  of  illustration.  This  sugges- 
tion opens  a  boundless  field  of  criticism.  We  can  trav- 
erse it  but  very  rapidly,  noting  only  the  most  essential 
principles.  Generally,  repetition  of  the  same  illustra- 
tion in  similar  connections  should  be  avoided.  If  the 
illustration  be  a  bad  one,  or  an  indifferent  one,  it  doea 


i-KCT.  xvin.]         VARIETY   OF   ILLUSTRATION.  313 

not  deserve  repetition :  if  it  be  a  good  one,  rejietition 
betrays  the  author's  estimate  of  it  as  such,  and  has  the 
look  of  vanity.  In  either  case,  an  elegant  taste  is 
offended.  Write  rather  as  if  you  were  unconscious  of 
the  quality  of  your  style,  and  as  if  your  mind  were  rich 
in  its  abundance  of  illustrative  stores. 

Study  variety  of  illustration  by  a  command  of  vari- 
ety of  sources.  An  old  homiletic  rule  used  to  be,  that 
a  preacher  should  illustrate  from  no  source  but  the 
Scriptures.  Strange  is  it  that  it  never  seems  to  have 
occurred  to  the  advocates  of  that  rule,  that  the  whole 
force  of  biblical  example  is  against  it.  The  writers  of 
the  New  Testament  did  not  limit  themselves  to  the  Old 
Testament  in  illustration  of  truth.  Our  Lord  employed 
the  works  of  nature  for  the  purpose  more  frequently  than 
the  "  law  and  the  prophets."  Indeed,  for  what  service 
are  the  works  of  nature  designed,  if  not  to  illustrate 
spiritual  truths  ?  Why  do  innumerable  analogies  thread 
the  material  universe,  if  not  to  aid  the  intelligent  uni- 
verse in  its  knowledge  of  the  Creator  of  both  ? 

Yet  the  material  world  should  not  be  used  for  illustra- 
tion indolently.  Some  preachers  plod  in  commonplaces 
by  confining  themselves,  for  illustrations,  to  the  most 
common  objects  and  phenomena  of  nature,  —  such  as 
the  sun,  the  moon,  the  stars,  rivers,  mountains,  forests, 
storms,  clouds.  Others  limit  their  range  of  choice  to 
principles  in  science ;  others,  to  the  mechanic  arts ;  a 
few,  to  the  fine  arts ;  a  larger  number,  to  civil  govern- 
ment ;  many,  to  historical  allusions,  to  mythokigy,  to 
literary  fiction,  to  military  art  and  history.  Henry 
Ward  Beecher  makes  too  exclusive  use  of  his  own  child- 
hood and  his  father's  family  for  illustrative  purposes. 
His  father  had  a  similar  favoritism  for  military  life.  A 
lady  once  called  my  attention  to  the  fact,  that  marriage 


314  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect,  x^-^l 

and  domestic  life  were  favorite  sources  of  illustration  in 
the  sermons  of  the  then  recent  alumni  of  the  Andover 
Seminary.  One  preacher  of  my  acquaintance  found  his 
favorite  source  of  illustrations  in  the  laws  and  phenom- 
ena of  disease. 

For  elegant  illustration  in  the  pulpit  a  preacher  should 
have  no  favorites.  Cultivate  a  liberal  acquaintance  with 
the  mechanic  arts,  the  natural  sciences,  histor}-,  biog- 
raphy, the  liberal  professions,  the  trades,  the  fine  arts, 
mythology,  fiction,  civil  and  social  life.  Be  at  home 
wherever  you  can  lead  the  interest  of  3'our  hearers  for 
new  analogies.  Then,  to  varieties  of  secular  knowl- 
edge, add  command  of  biblical  illustrations. 

Again :  for  variety's  sake,  illustrations  should  not  be 
restricted  to  any  one  rhetorical  form.  Do  not  commonly 
resort  to  the  boldest  of  figures,  nor  always  to  the  mild- 
est. The  French  pulpit  should  not  be  imitated  in  its 
excessive  use  of  the  apostrophe,  nor  the  Methodist 
pulpit  in  the  extreme  use  of  exclamation,  nor  Jeremy 
Taylor  in  his  too  frequent  use  of  vision.  The  only  rule 
admissible  on  this  subject  is  the  general  one,  the  bolder 
the  figure,  the  less  frequent  should  be  its  use.  The  same 
principles  should  give  variety  to  the  proportion  of  rhe- 
torical illustration.  Illustration  should  rarely  predomi- 
nate over  declarative  or  argumentative  discussion ;  yet 
it  should  not  be  limited  to  pictorial  words.  Elegance 
requires  diversity  in  proportion,  as  in  rhetorical  form. 
The  extent  to  which  a  prolific  and  inventive  mind  can 
execute  illustrative  variety  is  seen  in  the  fact,  that  in 
sixty-four  volumes  of  the  works  of  Paul  Richter,  one  of 
the  most  imaginative  of  German  prose-writers,  it  is  said 
that  only  two  or  three  illustrations  are  repeated. 


LECTURE   XIX. 

VARIETY  OF  STYLE,   CONTINUED.  — HARMONY    OF  STYLE. 

Resuming  the  consideration  of  variety  (,f  style,  let 
us  observe  that  the  variety  which  an  elegant  taste 
requires  is  assisted  by  variety  of  delivery.  By  this  is 
meant,  not  only  that  a  versatile  delivery  is  the  natural 
expression  of  a  versatile  style,  but  that  it  is  a  power 
ful  auxiliary  to  the  forming  of  such  a  style. 

A  very  broad  theme  is  this  of  the  reciprocal  effect  of 
style  and  elocution.  A  monotonous  elocution  insen- 
sibly yet  inevitably  gives  character  to  the  style  of  one 
who  speaks  much  in  public.  A  drowsy,  drawling,  nasal 
delivery,  if  such  be  a  preacher's  habit,  will  brood  over 
and  suffocate  his  writing.  A  brisk,  energetic,  versatile 
delivery  is  an  inspiration  to  the  pen.  Unconsciously, 
we  form  our  sentences,  choose  our  collocations  of  words, 
adjust  the  length  of  our  periods,  select  our  rhetorical 
forms,  and  even  manipulate  our  vocabulary,  as  we  feel 
intuitively  that  we  shall  utter  them  in  the  act  of  deliv- 
ery. You  will  detect  before  long,  if  you  care  to  do  so, 
this  silent  infusion  of  the  genius  of  your  elocution  into 
your  written  style.  You  ma}''  first  observe  it  in  the 
proportion  of  long  to  short  sentences ;  but  no  feature 
of  style  escapes  affinity  with  delivery.  Other  things 
being  equal,  your  style  will  become  what  your  manner 
is.     Each  will  grow  into  fitness  to  the  other. 

Therefore  variety  in  deliver  y  will  promote  variety  iq 

31fi 


316  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  hx. 

style.  A  flexible  voice,  various  iutonation,  gesture, 
and  position,  will  aid  the  growth  of  a  varied  command 
of  oral  expression.  You  write  a  sermon,  for  example, 
addressed  to  one  man  in  your  audience :  you  know  his 
spiritual  condition;  you  have  in  mind  the  locality  in 
which  he  sits  in  the  church ;  you  have  his  countenance 
before  you  as  you  write ;  you  preach,  not  only  about 
him,  but  to  him ;  you  foresee,  that,  in  the  applicatic  n  of 
your  discourse,  you  shall  rise  to  your  full  height,  and 
lift  your  voice,  or  lower  it  to  its  most  earnest  key ;  and 
shall  endeavor,  by  look  and  tone  and  gesture  and  atti- 
tude, to  make  him  feel  that  you  mean  him.  Do  you 
think  it  possible  that  you  can  have  that  scene  before 
you  in  prophetic  vision,  and  with  the  moral  sensibilities 
appropriate  to  it  alert  in  your  heart,  and  yet  can  sit 
with  the  dullness  of  a  clam  at  your  study-table,  and  reel 
off  a  style  like  "  Abraham  begat  Isaac,  and  Isaac  begat 
Jacob,  and  Jacob  begat  Reuben,  and  Reuben  begat 
Hanoch,"  and  so  on  ?  It  is  inconceivable.  Any  man's 
imagination  is  too  vividly  clairvoyant  to  tolerate  such 
incongruity.  Home  Tooke  even  goes  so  far  as  to  say 
that  no  man  can  write  a  good  style  in  prose  who  is  not  a 
good  conversationalist.  Mr.  Hazlitt  adds,  "  No  style  is 
worth  a  farthing  which  will  not  bear  comparison  with 
spirited  colloquy." 

It  is  true  that  instances  occur  which  seem  to  contra- 
dict this  view.  Rapid  speakers  sometimes  write  for  the 
press  in  a  crawling  style.  This  is  said  to  have  been 
true  of  Mr.  Fox,  the  English  statesman.  Drawling 
speakers  also  sometimes  write  vivaciously.  But  such 
writers  do  not  write  much  for  the  purpose  of  oral  deliv- 
ery. They  do  not  write  enough  to  give  their  delivery 
a  chance  to  permeate  their  style.  They  either  speak 
extemporaneously,  and  therefore  do  not  write  well  foi 


LEOT.  XIX.]  STYLE   AND   ELOCUTION.  317 

the  platform  or  the  pulpit,  or  they  do  not  speak  at  all, 
and  therefore  do  not  write  well  for  oral  utterance. 
Elocution  and  written  style  do  not  come  in  contact  fre- 
quently enough  to  create  the  reciprocal  sympathy  of 
which  I  have  spoken. 

An  amusing  account  is  given  by  Lord  Macaulay,  of  a 
criticism  by  Sheridan  upon  the  style  and  manner  of 
Mr.  Fox  and  Lord  Stormont  in  the  British  Parliament. 
Sheridan  had  returned  one  morning  from  the  meeting 
of  Parliament,  and  a  friend  asked  him  for  the  news  of 
the  day.  He  replied  that  he  had  enjoyed  a  laugh  over 
the  speeches  of  those  two  men.  He  said  that  Lord 
Stormont  began  by  declaring  in  a  slow,  solemn,  nasal 
monotone,  that,  "  when  —  he  —  considered  —  the  enor- 
mity —  and  the  —  unconstitutional  —  tendency  —  of  the 
measures  — just  —  proposed,  he  was  —  hurried  —  away 
in  a  —  torrent  —  of  passion  —  and  a  —  whirlwind  —  of 
im-pet-u-os-i-ty."  Mr.  Fox  he  described  as  rising  with 
a  spring  to  his  feet,  and  beginning,  with  the  rapidity 
of  lightning,  thus :  "  Mr.  Speaker  such  is  the  magni- 
tude such  the  importance  such  the  vital  interest  of  the 
question  that  I  can  not  but  implore  I  can  not  but  adjure 
the  House  to  come  to  it  with  the  utmost  calmness  the 
utmost  coolness  the  utmost  deliberation.^^ 

This  surely  does  not  look  much  like  reciprocal  sym- 
pathy between  manner  and  style.  But  scrutinize  it 
carefully,  and  you  will  find,  even  in  this  rare  extreme, 
that  such  a  sympathy  is  struggling  to  unite  them. 
What  is  the  fact  with  Lord  Stormont's  case  ?  It  is  his 
drawling  manner  which  gives  him  time  to  say  in  what 
a  tempestuous  passion  he  is.  He  is  uttering  what  he 
knows  to  be  untrue :  a  man  in  a  genuine  passion  does 
not  stop  to  tell  of  it.  Such  a  blunder  is  in  perfect  keep- 
ing with   the   monotonous,  crawling  elocution.     Note, 


318  ENGLISH    STYLE.  [lect.  xix. 

also,  the  florid,  figurative  style  in  which  he  speaks  of 
the  torrent  and  the  whirlwind,  and  the  carefulness  with 
which  he  supplies  all  necessary  connectives.  These  are 
both  exactly  the  mistakes  which  one  is  likely  to  make 
who  affects  the  utterance  of  passion  which  has  no  exist- 
ence. His  style  and  his  professed  sentiment  are  incon- 
sistent, but  his  style  and  manner  are  in  conspiracy  to 
betray  the  falseness  of  the  sentiment. 

What  is  the  case  rhetorically  with  Mr.  Fox?  Pre- 
cisely the  same.  He  is,  in  fact,  anxious  and  impatient : 
his  style  and  manner  combine  to  reveal  this,  though  the 
sentiment  exhorts  the  House  to  be  just  the  reverse. 
Observe  his  pithy,  literal  vocabulary.  He  does  not 
know  whether  he  is  in  a  whirlwind  or  not.  Lord  Stor- 
mont  did  know.  Note  Mr.  Fox's  compact  syntax,  in- 
dicating his  nervous  haste  by  the  absence  of  connec- 
tives :  "  Such  is  the  importance  such  the  magnitude  such 
the  vital  interest,"  etc.  The  style  gallops  furiously  to 
its  goal.  Lord  Stormont  ambled  along,  sporting  with 
torrents  and  whirlwinds  by  the  way.  Few  examples 
can  illustrate  a  more  active  affinity  between  style  and 
manner.  Both  are  more  truthfully  significant  than  the 
sentiment  is,  of  the  real  state  of  the  writer's  mind.  Let 
us  not  contemn,  then,  the  graces  and  forces  of  delivery 
as  mere  externals.  Some  of  the  subtle  influences  which 
give  character  to  discourse  have  their  origin  there. 

IV.  One  topic  remains  to  be  treated  in  our  discus- 
sion of  the  quality  before  us.  It  is  the  dependence  of 
elegance  on  the  element  of  harmony. 

Beauty,  strictly  speaking,  is  confined  to  objects  which 
address  the  eye.  But  the  sense  of  the  beautiful  thus 
awakened,  so  far  as  analysis  can  detect  it,  is  the  same 
with  that  awakened  by  objects  which  address  the  ear. 
So  close  is  the  resemblance,  at  least,  that  usage  recog* 


LECT.  xix.J  HARMONY   OF   STYLE.  319 

nizes  it  in  the  structure  of  language.  We  thus  extend 
the  terra  "  beauty  "  to  objects  of  hearing.  Beautiful 
music,  a  beautiful  symphony,  a  beautiful  voice  —  these 
combinations  excite  no  sense  of  incongruity.  On  the 
other  hand,  we  extend  the  term  "  harmony  "  and  its 
equivalents  to  objects  of  sight.  The  harmony  of  a 
building,  of  a  painting,  of  a  landscape,  of  a  group  of 
statuarj*,  expresses  to  us  a  perfectly  intelligible  idea. 

True,  such  a  use  of  language  contains  a  figurative 
element ;  but  usage  justifies  it,  and  thus  recognizes  the 
resemblance,  approaching  identity,  between  the  pleasur- 
able emotions  excited  by  certain  objects  through  the 
eye,  and  those  by  certain  other  objects  through  the  ear 
We  pass  and  repass  between  the  dominions  of  the  eye 
and  the  ear,  with  no  sense  of  conflict  or  irrelevance. 
An  old  writer  says  of  the  work  of  creation,  "  Nothing 
has  been  made  without  music,"  and,  again,  "  The  whole 
creation  is  a  poem."  The  mythological  notion  of  the 
music  of  the  spheres  had  its  origin,  doubtless,  by  transfer 
from  the  beauty  of  light  and  motion  in  the  stellar  uni- 
verse. In  the  criticism  of  style,  therefore,  we  are  in 
perfect  accord  with  usage  in  observing  the  element  cor- 
responding to  proportion  in  form,  and  in  defining  it  by 
the  word  "  harmony."  Among  other  things  the  follow- 
ing are  worthy  of  special  notice  ;  viz.,  — 

1.  The  truthfulness  of  a  discourse  assists  in  disclos- 
ing its  beauty  to  good  taste.  Truth  may  not  of  itself 
awaken  the  sense  of  beauty  consciously ;  yet  nothing 
susceptible  of  expression  in  language  can  be  beautiful 
without  it.  Good  taste,  as  well  as  the  moral  sense,  is 
offended  by  a  falsehood  or  an  exaggeration.  What  do 
we  mean  by  the  beauty  of  a  truthful  narrative,  a  truth- 
ful description,  a  truthful  argument?  It  is  not  merely 
the  absence  of  artifice  or  of  gaudy  ornament,  it  is,  in 


820  ENGLISH    STYLE.  [lect.  xix. 

piirt,  the  direct  efiQuence  of  truth,  which  we  feel.  Good 
taste  acknowledges  it  as  a  thing  of  beauty.  The  refine- 
ment of  Christian  sensibility  enters  into  the  question 
to  modify  the  instincts  of  taste.  The  false  in  sentiment 
may  so  shock  the  sense  of  truth  as  to  silence  all  re- 
sponse of  our  cesthetic  nature  to  the  external  beauty  in 
which  the  falsehood  may  be  incarnate.  Satan  in  the 
guise  of  an  angel  of  light  ceases  to  be  the  angel  of  light 
as  soon  as  the  Satanic  nature  is  disclosed.  The  popular 
myths  of  all  Christian  ages  agree  in  representing  the 
form  of  the  arch-demon  with  horns  and  hoofs,  or  dragon- 
shape,  whenever  his  moral  nature  is  revealed.  Beauty 
vanishes  at  the  moment  of  that  revelation.  So  it  is 
with  the  works  of  Satan. 

Of  two  poets,  Lord  Byron  and  Cowper,  the  Christian 
poet  would  probably  be  right,  in  the  decision  of  a  ques- 
tion of  disputed  taste,  if  the  question  involved  the  dis- 
tinction between  the  true  and  the  false.  Cowper  might 
be  disgusted  by  that  which  Byron  would  enjoy  as  a 
matter  of  taste,  and  the  Christian  poet  would  be  correct 
in  his  intuitions.  Standing  on  a  higher  level,  he  would 
see  through  a  purer  atmosphere.  A  blasphemous  poem, 
the  work  of  rarest  genius,  may  so  shock  you  that  you 
cease  to  feel  its  claims  to  imaginative  beauty.  Moral 
deformity,  to  the  vision  of  a  true  soul,  may  be  the  one 
hideous  feature  in  an  assemblage  of  graces  which  shall 
make  them  all  odious.  In  the  ultimate  analysis  of 
thought,  every  thing  is  what  it  is  morally.  On  the  same 
principle,  the  truthfulness  of  a  discourse,  while  it  may 
not  alone  awaken  the  sense  of  beauty  consciously,  does 
heighten  that  beauty  when  quickened  by  other  things. 

2.  By  a  similar  law  of  afiSnity,  unity  of  sentiment  in 
a  discourse  assists  the  impression  of  beauty  as  discerned 
by  good  taste.     Harmony  is  founded  on  oneness  of  aim 


LKCT.  XIX.]        THE   ELEGANCE   OF   PROPRIETY.  321 

in  a  well-constructed  composition.  There  is  a  beauty 
of  its  own  in  concinnity  of  structure.  This  alone  may 
not  create  elegance  in  distinct  impression  upon  sesthetio 
taste,  but  it  does  deepen  that  impression ;  and  the 
absence  of  it  may  be  so  keenly  resented  as  to  destroy 
the  sense  of  elegance  awakened  by  other  things.  The 
conflict  of  inconsistent  materials,  the  bungling  of  dis- 
orderly materials,  the  shuflling  of  irrelevant  materials, 
the  balking  of  contradictory  materials,  —  all  are  un- 
friendly to  elegance  of  speech,  because  they  destroy  the 
sense  of  harmony.  You  can  not  make  an  elegant  dis- 
cussion out  of  a  slovenly  arrangement.  The  superlative 
invention  of  genius  in  point  of  thought  may  be  fore- 
doomed to  failure  by  a  slipshod  plan.  Ecstatic  impres- 
sions of  truth  on  the  mind  always  tend  to  express 
themselves  in  song.  Prophetic  inspiration  was  often  a 
poem.  Hidden  in  the  recesses  of  such  experiences  is 
the  element  of  harmony,  which  beauty  always  presumes, 
and  to  which  it  invites  response. 

3.  Elegance  is  further  promoted  by  the  fitness  of  a 
discourse  to  the  time,  the  place,  the  circumstances,  and 
the  characters  concerned  in  its.  delivery.  I  group  these 
things  as  comprising  the  most  essential  of  certain  things 
external  to  the  discourse  itself,  with  which  it  should  be 
in  keeping.  There  is  an  elegance  of  propriety  which 
depends  chiefly  on  those  relations  of  a  discourse  which 
are  here  suggested. 

Fitness  to  the  time  when  a  discourse  is  delivered  is 
essential  to  its  perfect  elegance.  A  sermon  on  the 
Lord's  Day,  which  is  unbecoming  to  holy  time,  is  an 
offense  against  the  canons  of  taste  no  less  than  against 
good  morals.  Remarks  in  the  house  of  God  which  are 
irreverent  to  the  associations  of  the  jjlace  are,  in  like 
manner,   violations   of    good   taste.     That   instinct   of 


822  ENGLISH   STYLE.  Ilecf.  xn 

a  Christian  audience  which  recoils  from  boisterous 
applause  in  a  place  of  Christian  worship  is  one  of  the 
most  prompt  workings  of  high  culture.  That  is  a 
coarse  audience,  moved  it  may  be  by  a  vulgar  preacher, 
which  so  forgets  the  proprieties  of  the  place  consecrated 
to  the  worship  of  the  Most  High. 

On  the  same  principle,  good  taste  enjoins  harmony  of 
discourse  with  the  spirit  of  an  occasion.  Why  would 
you  not  sing  a  comic  song  at  a  funeral  ?  Why  not  pla}'^ 
a  dirge  at  a  marriage-feast?  For  similar  reasons,  aes- 
thetic taste  requires  the  most  cautious  adaptation  of  a 
discourse  to  the  genius  of  an  occasion,  like  that,  for 
example,  of  the  administration  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 
The  aesthetic  sense  and  the  moral  sense  hover  vigilantly 
hand  in  hand  over  a  very  broad  range  of  the  proprieties 
of  the  pulpit. 

The  most  important  of  these  externals  on  which  the 
elegance  of  propriety  depends  is  that  of  character.  The 
character  of  the  speaker  and  the  character  of  the  hearer 
are  the  criteria  by  which  many  questions  concerning  the 
policy  of  the  pulpit  must  be  decided.  That  may  be 
an  elegant  propriety  in  a  speaker  of  great  age  or  of  es- 
tablished reputation  which  would  be  a  flagrant  imper- 
tinence in  a  young  man  unknown  to  fame.  John 
Hancock,  in  an  oration  on  the  anniversary  of  the 
Boston  Massacre,  delivered  a  severe  invective  against 
the  love  of  riches.  It  was  accepted  as  authoritative 
from  him,  because  he  was  known  to  have  risked,  in 
the  defense  of  his  country,  the  largest  fortune  in  the 
Colony. 

In  applicator}'  appeals  to  men  from  the  pulpit,  preach 
ers  have  frequent  opportunities  to  obey  or  to  violate 
these  proprieties  of  character.  Aged  men,  men  of  un- 
usual intelligence,  women  of  high  culture,  and  men  of 


IKCT.  XIX.]  PROPRIETY  IN  APPEALS.  323 

official  rank,  have  a  right  that  their  personal  character, 
age,  and  social  standing,  should  be  delicately  regarded 
in  the  style  in  which  they  are  individualized  in  the 
appeals  of  a  preacher.  I  include  "social  standing" 
because  in  our  country,  even  when  social  pre-eminence 
is  due  chiefly  to  the  possession  of  wealth,  that  is  com- 
monly a  symbol  and  a  proof  of  something  in  the  man 
which  deserves  respect.  The  junior  of  such  hearers, 
or  their  inferior  in  secular  intelligence  or  in  general 
culture,  is  not  at  liberty  to  address  them  as  in  all 
respects  his  equals.  Why  ?  Simply  because  he  is  not 
their  equal ;  and  clerical  fidelity  is  no  excuse  for  im- 
pertinence. 

Preachers  of  humble  birth,  and  of  spirit  less  humble, 
sometimes  carry  into  the  pulpit  the  infirmity  of  uncon- 
scious jealousy  of  superiors,  which  was  the  fruit  of 
their  early  training.  A  liberal  education  should  lift  a 
man  above  all  that.  The  English  ideal  of  a  clergyman 
is  in  this  respect  the  true  one,  that  a  clergyman  is,  by 
virtue  of  his  profession,  a  gentleman.  Note,  for  an  ex- 
ample, St.  Paul's  address  to  King  Agrippa.  Bear  in  mem- 
ory the  spirit  of  the  Old  and  New.Testaments :  "  Honor 
the  king ;  bow  down  before  the  hoary  head ;  obey  magis- 
trates ;  be  subject  to  principalities."  The  whole  atmos- 
phere of  the  Bible  is  that  which  surrounds  a  gentleman 
and  a  man  of  taste.  It  is  fitted  to  create  such  ministers 
as  George  Herbert  and  Henry  Martyn.  Because  we 
will  not  fawn  upon  great  men,  nor  cringe  before  men  of 
wealth,  it  by  no  means  follows  that  we  must  not  observe 
in  the  pulpit,  as  gracefully  as  out  of  it,  the  proprieties  of 
character  which  God  has  ordained  in  the  constitution  of 
society.  We  practice  no  sycophantic  utterance,  we  only 
give  expression  to  a  beautiful  sentiment  in  the  language 
of  cultured  speech,  when  we  respectfully  acknowledge 


324  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [leot.  xix, 

distiuctions  which  God  himself  honors.  In  our  age 
and  country,  he  is  the  bold  preacher  who  will  do  this 
thing ;  not  he  who  blurts  out  the  impertinences  which 
mark  liis  vulgar  training,  against  rank  and  station  and 
office  and  wealth  and  honorable  ancestry,  knowing  that 
the  lower  sentiments  and  the  baser  passions  of  a  minor- 
ity of  his  hearers  will  greet  him  with  applause. 

To  illustrate  the  effect  of  this  error  in  the  pulpit  on 
those  who  are  the  object  of  it,  let  me  tell  you  a  fact 
from  unwritten  history.  One  of  the  most  liberal  found- 
ers of  the  Andover  Seminary  designedly  allowed  his 
property  to  accumulate  with  years,  instead  of  frittering 
it  away  in  small  donations  to  small  charities,  in  order 
that,  before  he  should  leave  the  world,  he  might  do 
something  for  the  cause  of  Christ  commensurate  with 
its  magnitude.  He  silently  plodded  his  way  up  to  great 
wealth,  cherishing  this  purpose  meanwhile.  When  at 
last,  in  his  old  age,  he  was  prepared  to  execute  the  plan 
of  his  early  manhood,  he  remitted  the  money  to  the 
treasurer  of  the  seminary,  saying,  as  he  did  so,  substan- 
tially (I  quote  from  memory),  '•  I  have  been  preached 
at  all  my  days  for  being  a  miser.  Striplings  with  rosy 
cheeks  have  berated  me.  But  I  should  like  to  know 
what  would  become  of  your  colleges  and  seminaries 
which  educate  those  good  young  men,  if  there  were  not 
some  such  misers  as  I  have  been."  Was  it  necessary 
to  clerical  fidelity  to  have  given  just  such  an  impression 
to  linger  in  an  old  man's  memory  ?  Would  not  min- 
isterial duty  have  been  more  wisely  done  if  the  canons 
of  good  taste  had  been  observed  by  an  elegant  fidelity 
to  the  proprieties  of  character  in  the  appeals  of  the 
pulpit  under  which  the  servant  of  God  had  sat  for 
thirty  years? 

The  strain  of  remark  into  which   this   subject   has 


M!OT.  XIX.]  EUTHO]Snr  OF  STYLE.  325 

enticed  me  indicates  the  indefiniteness  of  that  element 
of  harmony  on  which  elegance  of  discourse  depends. 
It  is  not  always  defined  in  specific  language  to  which 
one  can  point  the  finger.  It  is  diffused,  like  a  delicate 
color,  throughout.  Good  taste  can  often  do  no  more 
than  to  affirm  its  own  intuitions,  and  leave  them  with- 
out proof  or  illustration.  Yet  good  taste  in  all  other 
minds  will  confirm  them  without  debate. 

4.  Yet  again :  elegance,  as  dependent  on  harmony  of 
style,  is  often  assisted  by  euphonious  language.  A  dic- 
tion which  flows  easily,  and  therefore  is  pleasing  to  the 
ear,  is  becoming  to  the  expression  of  beauty  in  thought. 
Coleridge  even  goes  so  far  as  to  say,  that  "wherever 
you  find  a  sentence  musically  worded,  of  true  rhythm 
and  melody,  there  is  something  deep  and  good  in  the 
meaning :  "  so  profound,  he  thinks,  are  the  sympathies 
between  euphonious  words  and  correspondent  ideas. 
In  support  of  the  same  criticism  is  the  singular  fact, 
that  great  orators  have  commonly  a  poetic  vein  in  their 
natures.  Cicero,  Chatham,  Fox,  Mansfield,  Curran, 
"Webster,  Clay,  Calhoun,  Everett,  all  wrote  poetry. 
Some  orators,  of  whom  Webster  is  an  example,  have 
defined  the  oratorical  genius  as  ir  the  last  analysis 
synonymous  with  the  poetic  geniuo .  so  potent  is  the 
tendency  of  eloquent  thought  to  clothe  itself  in  poetic 
speech.  But  in  this,  as  in  other  elements  of  discourse, 
it  is  the  demand  of  the  thought  which  creates  the 
euphonious  utterance.  The  mechanism  of  style  can 
not  put  it  on  the  thought  if  the  demand  is  not  in  the 
thought.  The  speaker  must  possess,  and  be  possessed 
by,  what  Milton  describes  as  the 


"  Thoughts  that  voluntary  moved 
Harmonious  numbers." 


•>-6  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [lbot.  xtx. 

What  constitutes  euphony  of  style?  I  answer,  so 
fur  as  practical  criticism  determines,  it  consists  of  three 
things.  One  is  smoothness  of  vocabulary.  Languages 
differ  greatly  in  their  susceptibilities  in  this  respect. 
Those  of  Northern  Europe  are  inferior  to  those  of  the 
South.  The  difference  is  chiefly  in  the  predominance 
of  consonantal  over  vowel  sounds  in  the  national  vocabu- 
laries. An  Italian  sentence  will  contain  four  vowels 
where  an  English  sentence  of  the  same  length  will  con- 
tain three.  In  Italian  style,  vowels  form  about  one-half 
of  the  letters  used  in  oral  speech:  in  English  style, 
vowels  constitute  but  three-eighths.  Yet  any  language 
admits  great  variety  in  this  proportion,  depending  not 
so  much  on  the  conscious  choice,  as  on  the  aesthetic 
intuitions,  of  the  speaker. 

The  structure  of  a  speaker's  vocal  organs  affects,  in 
some  degree,  his  instinctive  selection  of  the  vowel  and 
the  consonant  in  his  style.  A  perceptible  characteristic 
of  the  style  of  some  speakers  is  a  predominance  of  the 
consonantal  sounds,  which  renders  the  style  harsh  and 
repulsive  to  the  ear.  Natives  of  Southern  Europe  call 
ours  the  "jawbreaking  language,"  because  of  the  fre- 
quency of  guttural,  aspirate,  and  sibilant  sounds.  If,  in 
listening  to  vocal  music,  you  have  ever  abstracted  your 
attention  from  the  words  and  ideas,  and  caught  only 
the  sounds,  you  must  have  been  sensible  of  the  extreme 
harshness  of  the  concentrated  sibilant  sounds  from  a 
choir  of  voices.  Some  speakers  have  a  deformity,  which 
no  art  can  remedy,  in  their  organs  of  speech,  by  which 
the  sibilant  words  and  syllables  in  our  language  receive 
excessive  utterance  when  uttered  at  all.  The  tongue 
and  the  roof  of  the  mouth,  with  the  upper  jaw,  bear  such 
proportions  to  each  other,  that  the  euphonious  medium 
between  extremes  in  sibilant  enunciation  is  impossible. 


tEOT.  XIX.]  EUPlIOlSrY  m   CONSTRUCTION.  827 

No  choice  is  practicable,  in  such  a  case,  except  between 
the  hissing  or  whistling  sound  and  the  lisping  of  the 
letter  "  s."  A  speaker  who  labors  under  this  infirmity 
will  be  mimicked  by  his  juvenile  hearers.  Its  effect  on 
euphony  is  irremediable. 

Euphony  consists,  also,  in  a  melodious  arrangement  of 
clauses  in  the  structure  of  sentences.  These  need  to 
be  so  arranged  that  accent  and  emphasis  shall  be  easily 
expressed.  Emphasis  in  delivery  will  be  sometimes  sac- 
rificed to  the  instinct  of  a  good  ear  if  the  sentiment 
requires  rather  euphony  than  force.  The  prose-style 
of  Milton  furnishes  examples  in  which  a  good  speaker 
might  hesitate  between  the  euphony  and  the  emphasis. 
A  perfect  style  will  so  adjust  expression  to  thought  as 
to  leave  no  room  for  such  hesitation. 

Euphony  consists,  also,  in  a  well-proportioned  variety 
of  structure  in  successive  sentences.  A  monotonous 
repetition  of  any  construction  can  not  be  made  euphoni- 
ous, except  by  singing  it.  The  proverbial  sing-song  of 
the  pulpit  is  due  largely  to  the  laboring  of  style  after 
excessive  euphony.  One  source  of  the  weariness  caused 
by  uninterrupted  declamation  is  its  effect  on  the  ear. 
The  most  animated  oratorical  style  becomes  soporific  if 
disproportionate. 

How  may  euphony  of  style  be  wisely  gained?  In 
my  judgment,  little  can  be  said  in  answer  to  this  inquiry 
which  is  of  practical  value.  The  ancients  made  much 
of  it,  however,  descending  with  great  care  to  minute 
rules  for  the  training  of  a  public  spraker  in  regard  to 
it.  To  me  these  seem  too  artificial  for  the  use  of  a  mod- 
ern speaker.  I  never  knew  or  heard  of  one  who  prac- 
ticed them.  Modern  criticism  remands  them  to  that 
fastidious  taste  which  led  Quintilian  to  instruct  and 
djill  his  pupils  in  the  art  of  folding  their  togas^  and 


328  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  xix 

dressing  their  hair.  The  substance  of  all  the  wisdom 
I  have  on  the  subject  is  comprised  in  four  very  simple 
suggestions. 

The  chief  thing  to  be  relied  on  for  cultivating  a 
euphonious  style  is  attention  to  the  instinct  of  a  good 
ear.  Men  differ  astonishingly  in  their  natural  gifts  in 
this  respect.  Plutarch  says  that  in  his  boyhood,  while 
his  companions  were  reading  ^sop,  he  read  Cicero, 
whose  sonorous  periods  delighted  his  ear  long  before 
he  understood  their  sense.  Few  moderns  have  excelled 
Wordsworth  in  the  exquisite  delicacy  of  his  sense  of 
sound.  Hence  the  remarkable  euphony  of  almost  all 
his  poetry.  I  do  not  recall  one  abrupt  line  in  "The 
Excursion."  Cultivate  the  accurate  and  quick  ear; 
then  obey  its  instinctive  decisions  upon  the  sound  of 
style,  and  euphony  is  a  sure  result. 

Again:  in  the  act  of  composing,  some  deliberation 
and  choice  are  commonly  practicable.  A  speaker  h 
seldom  so  carried  away  by  the  torrent  of  thought  that 
he  does  not,  in  fact,  pause  and  deliberate  upon  many 
things  in  his  diction.  We  are  not  often  inspired  in 
speech.  Without  detriment  to  thought,  therefore,  we 
can  choose  intelligently  the  words  which  sound  most 
mellifluously  to  the  ear,  and  flow  most  smoothly  from 
the  tongue.  The  same  choice  is  practicable  of  construc- 
tions. It  is  not  necessary,  because  of  our  enthusiasm  in 
the  act  of  composing,  that  we  should  make  the  rhytlim 
of  our  style  sound  like  the  roll  of  a  lumber-wagon  or 
the  beat  of  a  drum.  An  eminent  English  author,  it  is 
said,  can  not  dot  the  "i,"  nor  cross  the  "  t,"  in  the  or- 
thography of  his  sentences :  he  employs  an  amanuensis 
to  do  it  for  him.  But  the  structure  of  his  style  would 
be  improved  if  he  practiced  deliberation  enough  to  do 
it  himself.     Practice  will  augment  one's  power  of  con 


fcWJT.  xrr.]  RHYTHMIC  STYLE.  329 

scious  choice,  without  at  all  impeding  the  flow  of 
thought. 

Further :  to  gain  euphony  of  style,  practice  revision 
of  your  own  style  after  the  act  of  composing,  when  the 
heat  of  production  has  had  time  to  cool.  Style  needs 
the  heat  of  composing  to  give  it  richness  and  variety  of 
thought :  it  needs  the  temperance  of  criticism  to  impart 
to  it  finish  of  expression.  We  do  not  disdaiu  this  labor 
of  review  for  the  sake  of  other  qualities  of  style,  of 
energy,  for  example  :  why  not  respect  it  for  the  sake  of 
elegance  as  well  ?  If,  as  we  have  seen,  elegance  is  essen- 
tial to  a  large  domain  of  thought,  nothing  that  promotes 
elegance  is  too  diminutive  to  be  worthy  of  an  author's 
care.  Beauty  is  more  susceptible  of  this  kind  of  finish 
than  strength.  Elegant  composing,  therefore,  is  like  the 
act  of  painting,  in  which  the  artist  touches  and  retouches 
the  canvas  till  his  artistic  sense  of  beauty  is  content. 

Once  more :  to  gain  a  genuine  euphony  of  style,  break 
up  a  distinctly  metrical  construction.  The  most  strik- 
ing feature  in  a  certain  kind  of  style  is  its  resemblance 
to  blank  verse.  Some  entire  pages  in  the  works  of 
Charles  Dickens  can  be  scanned"  as  perfectly  as  a  page 
of  hexameters  from  Virgil.  The  following  passage  from 
"  The  Curiosity  Shop  "  will  serve  for  illustration ;  viz., 
"  Then  when  the  dusk  of  evening  had  come  on,  and  not 
a  sound  disturbed  the  stillness  of  the  place  ;  when  the 
bright  moon  poured  in  her  light  on  tomb  and  monu- 
ment, on  pillar,  wall,  and  arch,  and  most  of  all,  it  seemed 
to  them,  upon  her  quiet  grave ;  in  that  calm  time  when 
all  outward  things  and  inward  thoughts  teem  with 
assurances  of  immortality,  and  worldly  hopes  and  fears 
are  humbled  in  the  dust  before  them,  —  then,  with  tran- 
quil and  submissive  hearts,  they  turned  away,  and  left 
the  child  with  God.     When  death  strikes  down  the 


b30  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [lect.  xnc 

innocent  and  young,  for  every  fragile  form  from  which 
he  lets  the  panting  spirit  free,  a  hundred  virtues  rise  in 
shapes  of  mercy,  charity,  and  love,  to  walk  the  world 
and  bless  it." 

This  does  not  rise  to  the  dignity  of  Milton's  "Para- 
dise Lost,"  but  it  reminds  one  of  Pollok's  "Course  of 
Time."  It  is  blank  verse,  yet  is  not  poetry.  The  gen- 
uine rhythm  of  prose  does  not  naturally  fall  into  such 
regularity  of  meter.  No  man,  it  is  true,  will  write  thus 
who  has  not  a  musical  ear;  but,  in  writing  thus,  the 
ear  tyrannizes  over  natural  expression.  The  genuine 
euphony  of  prose  does  not  invite  one  to  chant  it.  It 
would  be  hypercriticism  to  condemn  a  single  sentence 
of  this  metrical  style ;  but  in  the  works  of  Dickens 
we  find  whole  pages  of  it,  which  might  easily  be  set  to 
music.  One  test  of  this  style,  which  condemns  it  for 
oral  address,  is  that  it  can  not  be  well  delivered.  A 
speaker  can  only  rehearse  it  in  measured  recitative. 
He  must  rehearse  it  very  well  to  avoid  sing-song.  Car- 
lyle  gives  to  young  writers  the  very  sensible  piece  of 
advice,  that  "all  men  who  can  speak  their  thought 
should  not  sing  it." 


LECTURE  XX. 

NATURALNESS  OP  STYLE. 

The  philosophical  idea  of  the  "  fitness  of  things  "  is, 
in  some  relations  of  it,  an  ultimate  idea.  "We  can  not 
carry  analysis  beyond  it.  For  some  of  our  convictions 
we  can  give  no  reason  other  than  this,  —  that  a  thing 
is,  or  is  not,  becoming.  It  does,  or  does  not,  fit  in  to 
the  nature  and  demands  of  other  things.  Style  has  a 
quality  which  expresses  this  relation  of  thought  as 
clothed  in  language.  It  suggests  the  interlocking  of 
cog-wheels  in  machinery. 

More  specifically,  naturalness  is  that  quality  by  which 
style  expresses  the  fitness  of  language  to  thought,  of 
both  thought  and  language  to  the  speaker,  and  of 
thought,  language,  and  speaker  to  the  hearer.  In  any 
complete  example  of  it,  it  is  thus  complicated.  It 
extends  to  all  the  fundamental  elements  out  of  which 
style  grows.  It  stands  related  to  them  as  proportion 
does  to  architecture.  We  respond  to  it,  not  by  saying, 
"  That  is  forcible,  this  is  beautiful,  the  other  is  clear ;  " 
but  we  say,  "  It  is  becoming,  it  fits,  the  cogs  interlock : 
therefore  the  movement  is  without  jar  or  needless  fric- 
tion." Such  a  quality  must  obviously  depend  for  its 
recognition  entirely  upon  the  intuitions  of  good  taste. 
Primarily  we  do  not  reason  about  it :  we  feel  it,  or  we 
feel  the  absence  of  it.  Being,  as  it  is,  the  resultant  of 
qualities  of  style  already  discussed,  the  discussion  of  it 

331 


882  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [lbut.  zx 

as  distinct  from   those  must  necessarily  involve  some 
repetition. 

I.  lu  what  forms,  chiefly,  does  naturalness  of  style 
become  perceptible  to  good  taste? 

1.  In  answer,  be  it  first  observed,  that  good  taste 
approves  naturalness  of  style  in  a  certain  fitness  of 
expression  to  the  subject  of  discourse.  Style  has  a  cei 
tain  temper,  like  that  of  steel.  It  pervades  every  par- 
ticle. This  may  or  may  not  be  becoming;  and  the 
question  whether  it  is  so,  or  not,  depends  often  on  the 
simple  relations  of  style  to  subject.  Why  is  not  a  vola- 
tile style  suited  to  a  discourse  on  immortality  ?  Why  is 
a  ponderous  style  unsuited  to  a  comic  song  ?  To  ask 
these  questions  is  to  answer  them.  The  jests  of  the 
French  revolutionists  under  the  knife  of  the  guillotine 
shock  us,  and  the  seriousness  of  a  parody  pleases  us, 
for  the  same  reason,  —  the  unfitness  of  things  to  things. 
"  The  Marriage-Ring,"  the  title  of  one  of  Jeremy 
Taylor's  sermons,  suggests  immediately  the  elegance  of 
style  which  ought  to  characterize  its  treatment.  The 
forty-seventh  proposition  of  Euclid  suggests  the  neces- 
sary absence  of  the  qualities  of  style  which  "  The  Mar- 
riage-Ring" demands.  Do  not  the  opposite  subjects 
"  Heaven  "  and  "  Hell "  compel  us,  by  stress  of  subject 
only,  to  associate  with  them  certain  opposites  in  the 
style  of  their  discussion?  Ruskin  contends  for  the 
same  distinction  as  fundamental  to  good  painting.  He 
says,  "  Greatness  of  style  consists  first  in  the  habitual 
choice  of  subjects  which  involve  profound  passions. 
The  habitual  choice  of  sacred  subjects  constitutes  a 
painter,  so  far  forth,  one  of  the  highest  order." 

Let  this  secret  sympathy  between  style  and  subject 
be  illustrated  by  a  single  quotation  from  the  work  of 
Dr.  Chalmers  on  "  Natural  Theology."    For  the  purpose 


LBOT.  XX.]  THE  STYLE  OP  CHALMERS.  333 

in  hand,  it  is  one  of  the  most  striking  passages  in  the 
language.  His  theme  is  the  difficulty  of  comprehending 
the  past  eternity  of  the  Godhead.  He  vaults  into  the 
expression  of  his  thought  in  the  following  style ;  viz., 
"One  might  figure  a  futurity  which  never  ceases  to 
flow,  and  which  has  no  termination ;  but  who  can  climb 
his  ascending  way  among  the  obscurities  of  that  infinite 
which  lies  behind  him  ?  Who  can  travel,  in  thought, 
along  the  track  of  generations  gone  by,  till  he  has  over- 
taken the  eternity  which  lies  in  that  direction  ?  Who 
can  look  across  the  millions  of  ages  which  have  elapsed, 
and  from  an  ulterior  post  of  observation  look  again  to 
another  and  another  succession  of  centuries,  and,  at 
each  further  extremity  in  this  series  of  retrospects, 
stretch  backward  his  regards  on  an  antiquity  as  remote 
and  indefinite  as  ever?  Could  we  by  any  number  of 
successive  strides  over  these  mighty  intervals  at  length 
reach  the  fountain-head  of  duration,  our  spirits  might  be 
at  rest.  But  to  think  of  duration  as  having  no  foun- 
tain-head, to  think  of  time  with  no  beginning,  to  uplift 
the  imagination  along  the  heights  of  an  antiquity  which 
has  positively  no  summit,  to  soar  these  upward  steeps 
till  dizzied  by  the  altitude  we  can  keep  no  longer  on 
the  wing ;  for  the  mind  to  make  these  repeated  flights 
from  one  pinnacle  to  another,  and,  instead  of  scaling  the 
mysterious  elevation,  to  lie  baffled  at  its  foot,  or  lose 
itself  among  the  far,  the  long-withdrawing  recesses  of 
that  primeval  distance  which  at  length  merges  away 
into  a  fathomless  unknown,  this  is  an  exercise  utterly 
discomfiting  to  the  puny  faculties  of  man.  We  are 
called  on  to  scir  ourselves  up,  that  we  may  take  hold  of 
God.  But  the  clouds  and  darkness  which  are  round 
about  him  seem  to  repel  the  enterprise  as  hopeless ;  and 
man,  as  if  overborne  by  a  sense  of  littleness,  feels  as  if 


334  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [lbct.  xx. 

nothing  can  be  done  bnt  to  make  prostrate  olieisance  of 
all  his  faculties  before  him." 

Does  not  this  passage  suggest  vastly  more  than  it  ex- 
presses of  the  weight  and  the  magnitude  of  the  thought 
it  carries  ?  Is  there  not  a  something  here,  which,  call  it 
what  we  may,  is  more  than  the  power  of  words  ?  The 
style  is  not  only  crowded  and  weighted  by  the  subject, 
but  is  itself  uplifted  and  expanded  by  the  subject. 
The  salient  faults  of  Dr.  Chalmers's  style  become  vir- 
tues here,  because  they  are  sj^mpathetic  with  the  sub- 
ject. Who  objects  to  the  ponderous  words,  and  involved 
constructions,  and  prolix  sentences  ?  They  are  just  what 
the  theme  demands.  The  style  is  a  picture  of  the  mind 
struggling  and  reaching  out  to  grasp  the  conception  of 
the  eternity  of  God. 

2.  Naturalness  of  style  becomes  perceptible  to  good 
taste,  also,  in  a  certain  fitness  of  thought  and  expression 
to  the  relations  of  hearers  to  the  subject.  A  painting 
attributed  to  Michael  Angelo,  in  one  of  the  galleries  of 
Italy,  represents  the  Virgin  Mary  standing  erect  and 
calm  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  without  a  tear  or  other 
trace  of  sorrow  on  her  countenance.  Artists  defend 
the  painting  by  the  theory  that  the  mother  of  our  Lord 
was  supposed  to  be  divinely  instructed  in  the  meaning 
of  the  crucifixion  and  the  mystery  of  atonement,  and 
that  inspired  exaltation  overpowered  her  maternal  sor- 
row. But  critics  say,  in  reply,  that  this  theory  of  the 
painter  was  true  only  to  him.  The  painting  does  not 
explain  it  to  the  perplexed  spectator.  Spectators  can 
not  be  supposed  to  originate  it.  They  must  look  at  the 
artist's  work  from  their  position,  not  from  his.  A  Prot- 
estant observer  especially,  who  sees  in  the  Virgin  mother 
only  a  woman,  not  superior,  perhaps  not  equal,  to  some 
others  of  her  sex,  can  not  be  supposed  to  divine  the 
secret  of  the  painter's  theology. 


LBCT.  XX.]  THE  DENUNCIATORS  STYLE.  835 

This  may  serve  to  illustrate  one  of  the  limitations 
which  good  taste  imposes  upon  the  style  of  discourse,  — 
that  it  should  be  adjusted  to  the  relations  of  the  audi- 
ence to  the  subject  in  hand.  It  must  express  truth  to 
their  range  and  quality  of  conception :  otherwise,  it  is 
an  unnatural  style,  as  much  so  as  if  it  expressed  a  false- 
hood. Indeed,  unnaturalness  in  this  form  may  amount 
to  falseness  of  impression.  Refraction  of  truth  may  be 
equivalent  to  untruth.  When  no  untruth  is  uttered, 
the  impression  of  truth  may  be  a  failure,  through  the 
preacher's  failure  to  appreciate  the  prepossessions,  or 
■prejudices,  or  ignorance  of  his  hearers. 

For  example,  denunciation  in  the  pulpit,  to  which  at- 
tention has  been  already  directed,  fails  of  its  object  more 
frequently  than  it  succeeds.  Why?  Abstractly  consid- 
ered, denunciation  of  sin  can  not  be  excessive.  Even 
denunciation  of  a  sinner  can  not  exceed  his  ill-desert. 
Why,  then,  does  our  instinct  of  hearing  often  pronounce 
it  excessive  ?  Why  do  we  revolt  from  it  often,  as  an 
impertinence  ?  Because  it  often  is  an  impertinence : 
literally  and  etymologically  it  is  not  pertinent  to  the 
relations  of  hearers  to  comminatory  truth.  The  con- 
sciousness of  sin  is  always  forewarned,  and  therefore 
fore-armed  against  such  discourse.  Style  which  ignores 
this  fact,  and  is  devoid  of  tact  in  approaching  the  con- 
science of  the  hearer,  is  sure  to  defeat  itself.  Through 
the  want  of  that  mental  balance  which  we  have  consid- 
ered as  essential  to  energy  of  utterance  on  certain  sub- 
jects, a  preacher  may  fail  to  understand  those  delicate 
adjustments  of  truth  to  its  recipient's  mood  Dr  habit 
which  are  requisite  to  natural  utterance.  The  relations 
of  sin  to  fear,  and  of  both  to  the  appeals  of  sympathy, 
he  may  utterly  overlook,  and  therefore  he  may  utterly 
fail  in  his  aim. 


336  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [leot.  xx 

Hence  it  is  that  the  most  successful  preachers  have 
always  been  the  most  considerate  students  of  the  condi- 
tion of  their  audiences.  It  is  a  remarkable  fact  in  the 
history  of  great  religious  awakenings,  that  those  who 
have  been  the  most  successful  instruments  in  promoting 
them  have  never  practiced  the  policy  of  reserve  in 
preaching  the  severe  aspects  of  truth.  They  have  not 
been  silent  upon  the  terrible  sanctions  of  divine  law. 
They  have  preached  those  sanctions  without  compro- 
mise or  abatement.  Those  who  crave  and  defend  the 
opposite  policy  in  the  pulpit  have  the  whole  history  of 
revivals  against  them.  That  preaching  which  has  been 
most  successful  in  the  spiritual  regeneration  of  mankind 
has  built  up  its  whole  superstructure  upon  a  foundation 
of  stern  and  uncompromising  law.  It  has  practiced 
no  concealment  of  the  wrath  of  God  against  sin,  and  no 
gloss  upon  the  threatenings  of  his  law  against  sinners. 

Yet  the  success  of  such  preaching  illumines  all 
Christian  history.  How  do  we  account  for  this  ?  The 
reason  is,  that  such  preachers  have  been  men  of  discern- 
ment in  the  study  of  men,  and  men  of  tact  in  address- 
ing men.  Theirs  have  been  the  tongue  of  the  learned 
and  the  speech  of  wisdom.  They  have  appreciated  the 
relations  of  guilt  to  truth.  They  have  preached  law 
in  the  spirit  and  with  the  ingenuity  of  love.  They  have 
preached  truth  in  divine  balance  with  truth.  They 
have  offset  appeals  to  the  fears  of  men  by  respondent 
appeals  to  hope.  They  have  presented  a  diversified 
round  of  truth  to  the  diverse  cravings  of  human  nature. 
Men  have  said  of  their  preaching,  "  This  meets  my 
wants,  this  fits  my  condition,  this  commands  my  trust." 
Such  has  been  the  way  of  all  great  preachers  who  have 
filled  history  with  the  story  of  their  success  in  bringing 
men  to  Christ.     Preaching,  as  they  did  always,  with  an 


tBCT.  XX.]  THE  DOGMATIC  STYLE.  887 

object  studied  and  defined  in  the  welfare  of  the  hearer, 
they  had  a  reason  for  saying  what  they  said,  as  they 
said  it,  and  when  they  said  it.  They  understood  them- 
selves, and  understood  their  hearers.  They  knew  what 
they  were  about  in  the  work  they  did. 

This  has  been  the  way,  also,  of  aU  great  orators.  So 
Demosthenes  spoke.  So  Napoleon  harangued  his  sol- 
diers within  sight  of  the  Pyramids.  So  Shakspeare 
makes  Mark  Antony  discourse  over  the  dead  body  of 
Csesar.  Common  criticism  and  common  sense  hit  the 
mark  precisely  when  they  say  of  such  men,  "These 
are  natural  orators."  Very  true ;  and  in  this  respect 
every  man  is  a  natural  orator  when  he  speaks  in  ear- 
nest, and  guided  by  the  intuitions  of  good  taste. 

3.  Further :  naturalness  of  style  becomes  perceptible 
to  good  taste  in  a  certain  fitness  of  discourse  to  the 
relations  of  the  speaker  to  his  subject.  The  principle 
here  in  view  may  be  best  illustrated  by  a  few  examples 
of  its  violation.  It  is  violated,  for  instance,  by  the 
dogmatic  style.  Not  often  by  glaring  and  conscious 
usurpation  of  authority,  but  by  an  indefinite  undertone 
of  discourse,  a  preacher  may  give  to  it  a  magisterial 
sound.  He  dictates  when  he  ought  only  to  instruct. 
He  assumes  what  he  ought  to  prove.  Sometimes  the 
evil  consists  not  so  much  in  what  is  said  as  in  how  it  is 
said.  A  certain  gait  in  the  style  betrays  a  swagger  or 
a  lordliness  of  stride  which  awakens  resistance.  Dr. 
Franklin,  in  criticising  one  of  the  appeals  of  the  Ameri- 
can Colonies  to  the  king  for  a  redress  of  grievances, 
advised  a  more  manly  style.  Said  he,  "  Firmness  carries 
weight:  a  strut  never  does."  When  we  detect  the 
"  strut "  in  discourse,  we  are  instinctively  aroused  to 
cavil  and  to  criticise.  We  can  not  help  it.  Probably 
the  pulpit  is  more  exposed  to  this  kind  of  unnatural 


888  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  xx. 

discourse  than  any  other  medium  of  public  speech.  In 
no  other  kind  of  public  speech  do  speakers  so  largely 
address  their  inferiors  in  age  and  in  intelligence.  An 
educated  clergy  generally  preach  to  audiences  the 
majority  of  whom  have  reason  to  look  up  to  them  as 
superiors.  Such  preachers  have  reason  to  assume  the 
prerogatives  of  superiors,  but  equal  reason  forbids  a 
dogmatic  assumption. 

A  similar  form  of  unnatural  discourse  is  the  patronize 
ing  style.  Not  by  dogmatic  assertion,  but  by  an  equally 
offensive  form  of  self-assertion,  a  preacher  may  make 
the  impression,  that,  in  his  measurement  of  things,  the 
truth  he  utters  depends  on  him,  not  he  on  truth.  Hints 
at  a  preacher's  abilities  and  qualifications  to  speak  on  a 
given  theme,  apologies  for  the  obscurities  of  truth,  inti- 
mations of  the  preacher's  toil  in  mastering  a  subject, 
comparisons  with  the  work  of  others  who  have  dis- 
cussed it  before  him,  claims  to  original  discovery,  of 
which  there  is  really  very  little  in  any  pulpit,  —  these, 
and  other  ways  which  criticism  can  not  easily  define, 
may  give  to  hearers  the  impression  that  the  preacher 
thinks  much  more  of  what  he  brings  to  his  subject  than 
of  what  he  gets  from  it.  Self-consciousness  breathes 
in  all  that  he  utters.  Is  not  this  the  impression  which 
a  sermon  sometimes  obtrudes  upon  you,  when  you  are 
not  looking  for  it,  and  can  not  point  out  the  paragraph 
in  which  the  offense  occurs  ?  You  feel  it  as  a  pervasive 
presence.  The  truth  discussed  seems  to  be  treated  like 
the  earthquake  which  one  pompous  scientist  remarked, 
"  had  had  the  honor  to  be  noticed  by  the  Royal  Society." 

Over  against  the  form  of  unnaturalness  just  observed, 
is  another,  which  may  be  termed  the  apologetic  style. 
The  tone  of  discourse  in  this  case  is  apologetic,  not  for 
the  subject,  but  for  the  preacher.     By  explicit  or  implied 


LBOT.  XX.]  THE  APOLOGETIC  STYLE.  339 

confessions  of  incompetence,  by  deprecations  of  criti- 
cism, by  the  want  of  positive  opinions,  by  the  intimation 
of  doubts,  by  a  style  which  marks  the  want  of  mastery, 
a  preacher  may  betray  a  want  of  confidence  in  his  own 
ability,  and  therefore  in  his  own  right,  to  preach  on  the 
subject  in  hand.  In  the  pulpit,  ability  and  authority 
are  proportioned  to  each  other.  Might  makes  right. 
If,  therefore,  standing  in  the  place  of  an  instructor, 
he  shrinks  from  the  prerogatives  and  responsibilities 
of  an  instructor,  his  style  will  disclose  this.  He  will 
not  rise  to  the  level  of  his  theme,  and  handle  it  as  one 
who  knows.  A  downcast  air  is  given  to  his  discussion 
which  tempts  a  cold-blooded  hearer  to  ask  him  by  what 
authority  he  assumes  to  preach  at  all.  Style  is  suscep- 
tible of  a  qiiality  corresponding  to  the  blush  of  a  diffi- 
dent man. 

It  deserves  note,  that  audiences  are  not  flattered  by 
this  apologetic  treatment.  They  may  give  to  it  their 
pity,  but  not  their  respect.  They  bear  with  less  impa- 
tience the  dogmatic  diction.  Men  love  to  be  addressed 
confidently,  respectfully  indeed,  but  fearlessly.  We 
would  rather  be  brow-beaten  than  to  be  fawned  upon. 
We  feel  more  respect  for  impudence  than  we  do  for  im- 
becility.    We  respect  a  pugilist  more  than  a  coward. 

One  other  form  of  this  kind  of  unnatural  discourse 
may  be  termed  the  apathetic  style.  The  best  description 
which  can  be  given  of  some  preachers  is,  that  they  are 
apathetic  as  opposed  to  sympathetic.  They  manifest  no 
sense  of  personal  subjection  to  the  truths  ttey  preach. 
They  seem  to  feel  no  sense  of  the  power  of  truth  over 
their  own  souls,  and  therefore  no  sympathy  with  hearers 
under  their  burden  of  convictions  and  quickened  sen- 
sibilities. Aloof  and  aloft  from  the  lowland  of  humble 
hearers,  they  preach  as  if  truth  concerned  hearers  only. 


840  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [lbot.  xt. 

They  speak  it  as  a  being  from  a  superior  world  might 
speak. 

The  verdict  of  an  audience  upon  such  discourse  is  the 
most  severe  retribution  that  can  fall  on  the  head  of  t 
living  man.  They  say  to  the  preacher,  "  You  have  no 
heart.  Your  very  fidelity  in  speech  is  grounded  on 
your  want  of  sympathy  with  us  in  feeling.  You  can  be 
as  an  angel  of  judgment  to  us,  because  you  do  not  feel 
as  a  sinner  with  us  at  the  bar."  Men  need  a  fellow- 
sinner  to  preach  to  them.  No  other  one  thing  do  they 
crave  in  this  matter  as  they  do  the  sense  of  fellow-feel- 
ing in  him  who  assumes  to  speak  the  message  which 
God  sends.  They  want  a  brother-man  to  speak  it. 
They  want  to  see  the  liquid  eye,  and  feel  the  tremulous 
human  hand,  of  him  who  is  one  of  themselves.  Give 
them  these,  and  you  may  do  what  you  will  with  them. 
Lead  them,  say,  "  Come  with  me,"  and  they  follow  you 
at  your  bidding ;  but  drive  them,  say,  "  Go,"  and  you 
might  as  well  preach  to  a  congregation  of  corpses. 

In  opposition  to  all  these  forms  of  discourse  a  natural 
style  requires  a  just,  temperate,  manly  appreciation,  on 
a  preacher's  part,  of  his  own  personal  relations  to  the 
truth  he  utters.  If  he  has  this  in  living  force,  it  will 
make  itself  felt  in  his  preaching.  He  will  not  express 
it  by  conscious  effort  and  in  chosen  words :  it  will 
express  itself.  His  style  will  breathe  it  forth,  like  the 
exhalation  of  a  spice-plant. 

4.  Naturalness  of  style,  again,  becomes  perceptible 
to  good  taste  in  a  certain  fitness  of  expression  to  oral 
discourse.  The  oral  style  of  continuous  discourse  is  dis- 
tinct from  that  of  the  press  on  the  one  hand,  and  from 
that  of  conversation  on  the  other.  Precisely  what  it  is 
which  constitutes  the  peculiarity  of  the  oral  style,  criti- 
cism can  not  easily  define.     But  in  any  striking  example 


LBCT.  XX.]      TECB  STYLE  OP  ORAL  DISCOUllSB.  341 

of  it  we  detect  several  features.  One  is  the  predom- 
inance of  concrete  over  abstract  words  in  its  vocab- 
ulary. Oral  discourse  is  essentially  pictorial  in  its 
nature.  It  abounds  in  words  which  are  images,  in 
words  which  are  things.  It  is  opposed  to  that  style 
which  throws  the  whole  burden  of  speech  upon  the  lit- 
eral truthfulness  of  abstract  phraseology.  It  denies  the 
necessity  of  this  in  the  discussion  of  any  subjects  which 
are  proper  themes  of  oral  discourse.  It  is  specially  hos- 
tile to  that  predilection  for  abstract  phrase  which  leads 
a  speaker,  and  more  frequently  a  writer,  to  fear  obvious 
expression. 

An  eminent  German  philosopher  is  said  to  have  re- 
written some  pages  of  his  manuscript  in  the  revision  of 
it  for  the  press,  because,  upon  reading  them  to  a  com- 
pany of  friends,  he  found  them  intelligible  at  a  single 
hearing.  He  recast  those  pages  into  a  more  recondite 
diction,  on  the  ground,  that,  if  his  meaning  were  so  obvi- 
ous as  to  be  understood  by  a  hearer,  the  class  of  readers 
whom  he  aimed  to  reach  would  not  deem  his  work  wor- 
thy of  their  notice.  Does  not  this  deserve  to  be  ranked 
with  those  affectations  which  I  have  elsewhere  denomi- 
nated the  cant  of  literature  ?  The  style  of  nature  in 
oral  speech  is  very  simple  in  its  aims.  It  repudiates  all 
forms  of  affectation.  It  betrays  no  fear  of  being  un- 
derstood. It  shows  no  reluctance  to  being  chUdlike  in 
its  love  of  pictures.  The  more  that  a  style  spoken  to 
the  ear  can  have  of  the  resources  which  make  thought 
visible  to  the  eye,  the  more  potently  does  it  achieve  the 
objects  of  oral  utterance. 

Again:  the  oral  style  inclines  to  a  large  excess  of 
simplicity  over  involution  in  the  construction  of  sen- 
tences. We  are  all  sensible  of  the  difference,  in  this 
respect,  between  the  style  of  the  press  and  the  style  of 


342  ENGLISH   STYLTS.  [lBOT.  xx. 

speech,  when  we  compare  our  own  styles  constructed 
by  the  two  methods.  The  very  same  materials,  in  the 
two  methods  of  expression,  we  throw  into  totally  differ- 
ent constructions.  We  extemporize  in  shorter  sen- 
tences than  we  use  in  printed  discourse,  in  more  simply 
framed  sentences,  with  less  of  inversion  and  introver- 
sion, and  suspension  of  the  sense.  The  difference  is  sc 
great,  that  it  affects  the  organs  of  speech.  These  are 
commonly  less  wearied  by  extemporaneous  speech  than 
by  the  delivery  of  a  written  sermon.  Physicians  well 
understand  this.  For  the  relief  of  bronchitis  they  often 
advise  preachers  to  abandon  their  manuscripts  in  the 
pulpit. 

One  other  feature  in  the  style  natural  to  oral  dis- 
course is  the  dramatic  quality,  which  makes  the  hearer 
active  in  the  discussion  of  a  subject.  This  partakes  of 
the  nature  of  colloquy  in  effect,  though  not  colloquy  in 
form.  You  have  doubtless  witnessed,  perhaps  experi- 
enced, the  power  of  this  feature  of  style  upon  an  audi- 
ence. Did  you  never  feel  in  listening  to  a  speech  as 
if  the  speaker  were  questioning  you,  and  you  were  in- 
voluntarily responding?  Did  you  never  seem  to  be 
yourself  the  questioner,  and  he  the  respondent  ?  Did 
you  never  carry  on  a  silent  dispute  with  a  preacher 
through  a  whole  discourse  which  commanded  in  you 
the  interest  of  dissent  ? 

These  effects  of  powerful  discourse  in  genuine  oral 
style  may  be  often  witnessed,  and  sometimes  evinced 
by  visible  signs.  The  sailor,  who  in  listening  to  White- 
field's  description  of  a  wreck  forgot  himself,  and  in 
response  to  the  preacher's  impassioned  cry,  "  What  more 
can  he  do?"  answered,  "For  God's  sake  take  to  the  life- 
bDat!"  illustrated  that  which  we  have  probably  all  of 
ns  felt,  in  less  degree,  when  preachers  have  made  us 


CKCT.  XX.]    NATURAL  STYLE  —  HOW   ACQUIEED.  343 

parties  in  their  discussion,  and  thrown  upon  us  the  re- 
sponsibility of  its  application.  The  illusions  of  the  stage 
never  gave  to  Garrick  and  Kean  such  advantage  for 
moving  an  audience  to  the  responsive  mood  as  some 
preachers  have  found  in  their  mastery  of  a  dramatic 
diction.  In  this  variety  of  their  success,  we  pronounce 
such  preachers  natural  orators.  It  is  only,  that,  in  obey- 
ing the  natural  intuitions  of  an  orator,  they  practice  as 
well  the  canons  of  criticism  and  the  laws  of  good  taste 
in  adjusting  style  to  the  objects  of  oral  speech. 

II.  The  views  we  have  considered  respecting  the  cog- 
nizance of  naturalness  of  style  by  good  taste  suggest 
further  the  inquiry,  By  what  means  may  a  natural  style 
be  most  effectually  acquired  ?  These  may,  for  the  most 
part,  be  named  with  brief  remark,  because  they  are  not 
recondite,  and  they  are  found  chiefly  in  certain  things 
which  lie  back  of  the  study  of  style  as  such.  They  are 
uot  greatly  involved  in  the  minutice  of  criticism. 

1.  You  will  anticipate  me  in  mentioning  as  the  first  of 
these  means  of  gaining  naturalness  of  style  the  habit  of 
mastering  subjects  of  discourse.  Let  the  word  "habit" 
be  emphasized  in  this  statement.  Style  depends  more 
upon  the  permanent  state  of  a  writer's  mind  than  upon 
any  expedients  of  discipline,  or  moods  of  composition. 
It  has  always  its  foundation  in  a  speaker's  character. 
What  the  man  is,  his  style  will  be.  Naturalness  espe- 
cially is  a  fruit  and  a  sign  of  a  certain  state  of  mental 
discipline  and  a  certain  habit  of  mental  action,  which 
will  not  permit  a  man  to  write  or  speak  upon  a  subject 
which  is  not  well  mastered.  We  do  not  walk  naturally 
in  utter  darkness.  Neither  do  we  speak  naturally  of 
that  of  which  the  chief  thing  we  are  thoroughly  con- 
scious of  is  our  ignorance,  or  our  bungling  knowledge. 
Mastery  is  needed  to  create  ease  of  movement.    Style 


S44  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [lbot.  xx. 

must  have  the  movement  of  conquest,  not  of  struggle. 
Says  Ruskin,  "  Without  absolute  grasp  of  the  whole 
subject,  there  is  no  good  painting."  Partial  conception 
is  no  couception. 

2.  Another  tributary  to  this  quality  of  style  is  self- 
forgetfulness  in  the  act  of  composing.  Unnaturalness 
in  almost  any  form  of  it  may  spring  from  a  want  of 
composure.  A  speaker  may  be  master  of  his  theme,  yet 
not  master  of  himself,  and  therefore  not  at  ease  about 
himself.  In  such  a  mood  he  speaks  nervously.  A  con 
stant  strain  is  manifest  in  his  style.  He  speaks  as  if  he 
were  constantly  thinking  of  his  style.  Its  movement 
is  like  that  of  one  walking  on  tiptoe.  The  remedy  is 
the  habit  of  self-forgetfulness  in  composing,  whether 
with  pen  or  tongue.  That  state  and  habit  of  mind 
which  led  Isocrates  to  spend  fifteen  years  in  adjusting 
the  sentences  of  his  Panegyric  could  not  fail  to  driU  all 
nature  out  of  it.  One  might  as  well  hope  to  acquire 
natural  vision  by  twisting  and  straining  for  fifteen  years 
to  get  a  sight  of  one's  own  eyeballs. 

3.  A  natural  style  is  assisted  by  an  absorbing  interest 
in  the  aim  of  a  discourse.  Note  briefly  a  distinction 
between  interest  in  the  details  of  a  discourse  and  inter- 
est in  its  aim.  An  example  of  one  of  these  will  best 
illustrate  both.  In  a  speech  delivered  in  the  American 
Congress  by  the  elder  Josiah  Quincy,  on  the  repeal  of 
the  embargo  laid  upon  our  commerce  with  Great  Bri- 
tain before  the  war  of  1812,  we  find  the  following  pas- 
sage ;  viz.,  — 

"  An  embargo  liberty  was  never  cradled  in  Massachu- 
setts. Our  liberty  was  not  so  much  a  mountain-  as  a 
sea-nymph.  She  was  free  as  air.  She  could  swim,  or 
she  could  run.  The  ocean  was  her  cradle.  Our  fathers 
met  her  as  she  came  like  a  goddess  of  beauty  from  the 


utcn  XX.)  THE  AIM  OF  DISCOURSE.  346 

waves.  They  caught  her  as  she  was  sporting  ou  the 
beach.  They  courted  her  as  she  was  spreading  her  nets 
upon  the  rocks."  In  this  strain  the  orator  proceeds. 
Mark  now  the  quality  of  this  style  as  related  to  the 
professed  aim  of  the  whole  speech.  What  was  that 
aim  ?  The  ships  of  the  merchants  of  Boston  and  Salem 
and  Newburyport  and  New  London  and  New  York 
were  rotting  in  their  harbors.  The  aim  of  the  legisla- 
tion advocated  by  Mr.  Quincy  was  to  remove  the  em- 
bargo, and  send  those  ships  to  sea.  Was  his  mind 
intent  on  that  in  the  passage  here  quoted?  Did  this 
passage  assist  that  aim,  or  could  it  naturally  do  so? 
Not  at  all.  The  paragraph  is  vivacious ;  its  metaphors 
are  novel;  its  diction  is  compact  and  clear;  it  is  a 
specimen  of  what  passed  in  those  days  for  fine  oratory. 
But  it  was  quite  too  fine  for  the  sober  and  rather  rough 
work  which  the  orator  had  before  him.  His  interest 
just  then,  all  the  enthusiasm  of  his  mind  in  the  busi- 
ness, was  expended  on  the  embellishment  of  his  style. 
He  was  thinking  of  the  beauty  of  it  as  a  work  of  art. 
He  was  speaking  to  Harvard  College  and  its  environs, 
not  to  the  Southern  Congressmen  whom  it  was  his  busi- 
ness to  win  over  to  the  commercial  interests  of  New 
England.  If  his  own  fortune  had  been  embarked  in 
one  of  those  rotting  ships,  and  he  was  intent  with  his 
whole  soul  on  saving  it  by  a  vote  of  the  Congress,  he 
would  have  found  something  to  say  more  to  the  pur- 
pose than  courting  a  sea-nymph  on  the  rocks. 

This  illustrates  the  importance  to  natural  discourse 
of  an  absorbing  interest  in  the  aim  of  it  as  distinct 
from  the  development  and  embellishment  of  its  details. 
Keep  always  the  practical  object  of  a  discourse  in  sight ; 
keep  it  close  at  hand;  let  the  shadow  of  it  cover  the 
whole  structure  from  beginning  to  end.     This  unity  of 


346  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lecw.  xx 

aim  is  itself  nature.  It  will  often  give  to  a  sermon  the 
most  essential  element  of  power,  when  many  other  ele- 
ments are  wanting.  Again  we  involuntarily  disclose 
the  secret  of  its  power  when  we  call  it  natural  elo- 
quence. 

At  this  point,  as  at  many  others,  comes  to  view  one 
explanation  of  the  fact  that  ardent  piety  often  gives 
power  to  preaching  which  is  not  eminent  for  learning, 
or  depth,  or  refinement  of  taste.  What  is  the  philoso- 
phy of  it  ?  In  part  it  is  this :  piety  creates  an  intense 
desire  to  do  good  by  preaching;  the  desire  creates  a 
proportionately  intense  aim  at  doing  good;  and  that 
aim  creates  strong  thought,  and  puts  it  into  direct  and 
earnest  speech.  The  working  of  such  elements  ap- 
proximates the  best  results  of  intellectual  force  and 
high  culture.  By  instinct,  a  mind  thus  aroused  and 
kept  in  balance  will  reject  excrescences  from  its  style. 
It  will  move  right  on  in  masterly  progress  to  its  object. 
Cultivated  taste  only  echoes  its  decision  in  pronouncing 
such  a  style  natural. 

4.  Still  another  help  to  the  attainment  of  the  style 
in  question  is  a  strong  confidence  in  the  truth  pro- 
claimed. No  man  can  preach  well  who  has  no  faith. 
None  can  preach  well  without  a  confidence  amounting 
to  assurance  of  success  by  legitimate  means  and  in 
legitimate  methods.  Lose  that  confidence,  and  one  of 
t^^o  things  must  follow :  either  you  will  work  in  mental 
trepidation,  and  therefore  not  with  mastery  of  your 
work  or  of  yourself ;  or  you  will  seek  the  show  of  suc- 
cess by  the  use  of  illegitimate  resources.  The  style 
of  the  pulpit  is  sometimes  unfitted  to  success,  because  a 
secret  distrust  fills  the  preacher's  mind  of  the  practica- 
bility of  success.  You  can  not  do  a  thing  wlr'ch  you 
have  no  hope  of  doing.    If  you  do  not  expect  success, 


LEOT.  XX.]  COKFIDBNCE  IN  TRUTH.  347 

you  will  not  aim  at  success.  You  will  sLoot  with  an 
unstrung  bow. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  loss  of  trust  in  truth  will 
sometimes  lead  to  the  use  of  unnatural  means  of  pro- 
ducing counterfeit  results.  Hence  arise  the  vagaries  of 
sensationalism  in  the  pulpit.  Exaggerated  sentiment, 
coarse  illustration,  vociferous  appeals,  violence  of  de- 
scription, distortion  of  biblical  metaphors,  irrelevant 
anecdotes,  flings  at  the  time-honored  faith,  parodies  of 
the  hymns  of  the  church,  irreverent  hypotheses  of  doc- 
trine, —  these  and  a  multitude  of  the  same  spawn  of 
mingled  impiety  and  imbecility  may  be  brought  to  the 
service  of  a  pulpit  from  which  the  ancient  faith  in  God 
and  in  divine  methods  of  speech  has  gone  out.  Mourn- 
ful is  the  degradation  of  that  public  sentiment  which 
utters  its  religious  responses  only  to  the  vulgarity  and 
the  irreverence  of  "salvation  armies."  Great  is  the 
fall  of  that  pulpit  which  caters  to  the  same  tastes  by 
the  arts  of  demagogues  and  the  tricks  of  mountebanks. 
Yet  the  tottering  of  the  pulpit  to  such  a  fall  may  be 
induced  by  a  gradual  decay  of  faith  in  its  inspired  mes- 
sage and  its  legitimate  methods.  . 

There  is  a  calm  and  earnest  trust  in  God's  ordinance 
that  truth  shall  do  its  work  in  the  salvation  of  men, 
which  every  preacher  needs  to  make  him  what  the  world 
calls  a  natural  orator.  Possessed  of  such  a  trust,  all 
preachers  may  be  natural  orators.  That  trust  creates 
a  spirit  of  repose  in  the  use  of  God's  instrument.  It 
makes  a  preacher  feel  that  he  can  afford  to  preach  the 
truth  naturally.  He  need  not  exaggerate  it ;  he  need 
not  distort  it ;  he  need  not  deck  it  with  meretricious 
ornament ;  te  need  not  mince  it,  nor  inflate  it,  nor  paint 
it.  He  has  only  to  speak  it  in  a  spirit  of  reverence  and 
love,  and  let  it  do  its  work.     It  will  do  its  work.     He 


848  ENGLISH  STYLE.  [lbot.  xx. 

may  safely  repose  In  it.  In  the  very  heat  and  turmoil 
of  the  world's  hostility  to  his  message,  he  may  wrap 
himself  in  the  spirit  of  a  child's  faith.  That  shall  be 
to  him  and  to  his  life's  work  like  the  mantle  of  a 
prophet.  He  may  know  in  his  inmost  soul  that  his 
words  are  the  wisdom  of  God  and  the  power  of  God. 

In  such  a  state  of  faith  a  preacher  will  preach  in  a 
natural  style,  with  no  conscious  effort  to  do  it.  He  will 
speak  with  simplicity,  because  it  is  not  natural  to  his 
tastes  to  do  otherwise.  He  will  preach  with  a  daring 
neglect,  even  contempt,  of  illegitimate  means  of  stimu- 
lating the  interest  of  hearers,  which  may  astonish 
observers  who  do  not  know  where  is  the  hiding  of  his 
power.  It  is  told  of  the  first  Napoleon,  that,  in  his 
most  hard  foughf ,  battles,  he  used  to  be  restless,  anxious, 
irritable,  and  taciturn,  until  a  certain  turn  was  reached 
in  the  execution  of  his  maneuvers ;  but  that  after  that 
crisis  was  gained,  —  a  crisis  invisible  to  all  eyes  but  his, 
—  and  long  before  victory  seemed  assured  to  his  staff- 
officers,  he  suddenly  became  calm,  bland  in  his  man- 
ners, apparently  careless  in  his  orders,  even  jovial  in 
his  conversation,  and  that,  at  the  battle  of  Eylau,  he  lay 
down  to  sleep  on  a  hillock  which  the  enemy's  grape- 
shot  grazed  without  awakening  him.  In  explanation  of 
his  seeming  temerity,  he  said  that  he  fought  a  battle  as 
he  had  planned  it  from  the  beginning,  and  that  after  a 
certain  stage  was  arrived  at  in  the  evolution  of  his  plan, 
if  all  went  well  thus  far,  he  knew  that  victory  was  sure, 
his  work  was  done :  that  which  remained  was  like  the 
closing  steps  in  the  solution  of  a  mathematical  problem, 
which  no  power  could  change. 

Similar,  yet  superior  to  the  repose  of  genius  in  its  own 
destiny,  is  that  rest  in  the  power  of  divine  truth  which 
a  preacher  may  feel,  and  which,  if  he  does  feel  it,  will 


LBtl.  X*.]  PBACTICE  IN  COMPOSITION.  349 

go  far  towards  realizing  in  his  style  of  discourse  the 
naturalness  of  a  perfect  taste. 

6.  One  additional  means  of  acquiring  a  natural  style 
remains  to  be  noticed:  it  is  practice  in  composition. 
Did  you  ever  observe  that  a  young  man's  chirography, 
originally  stiff,  awkward,  angular,  bearing  every  mark 
of  juvenility,  becomes  often,  in  the  process  of  time, 
flowing  and  business-like,  through  mere  practice  in 
rapid  writing  ?  Though  it  may  not  gain  the  kind  of 
finish  which  belongs  to  the  engraving  of  the  copy-book, 
yet  you  pronounce  it  superior  to  that,  because  it  is  a 
natural  hand.  It  expresses  somewhat  of  the  individu- 
ality of  the  writer. 

Similar  to  this  is  the  indefinable  elegance  which  style 
may  receive  from  large  practice  in  composing.  In  the 
history  of  the  fine  arts,  the  most  illustrious  painters  are 
those  who  have  painted  most  abundantly.  Ruskin  says, 
"  Of  two  touches  as  nearly  as  possible  alike  in  other 
respects,  the  quickest  will  invariably  be  the  best."  Of 
perfect  execution,  velocity  is  an  invariable  quality. 
This  is,  in  part,  the  explanation  of  the  fact  that  large 
practice  in  composing  tends  to  create  a  perfect  style : 
it  is  because  much  composing  necessarily  involves  rapid 
composing.  It  does  not  follow  that  the  most  volumi- 
nous writers  will  necessarily  be  the  most  perfect  writers. 
But  it  does  follow  that  practice  in  this,  as  in  other 
arts,  will  re-act  upon  natural  genius,  and  develop  it  in 
natural  work. 

Other  things  being  equal,  the  most  prolific  writer  will 
be  the  most  natural  writer.  The  man  who  writes  the 
largest  quantity  with  critical  care  will  write  most  natu- 
rally. In  many  instances  in  which  other  requisites  to  a 
natural  style  exist,  writers  fail  in  this  quality  for  no 
reason  other  than  that  they  have  not  written  enough  to 


350  ENGLISH   STYLE.  [lect.  xi 

write  naturally.  They  have  not  become  acquainted 
with  nature.  I  have  known  men  to  be  confirmed  in  s 
juvenile  style,  because  they  would  not  write  abundantly. 
Composing  was  a  drudgery,  and  they  allowed  it  to  re- 
main such  by  avoiding  it  when  it  was  not  compulsory. 
Nothing  could  be  more  suicidal  in  the  self-discipline  oi 
a  young  preacher.  A  preacher  is  by  profession  a  writer. 
He  must  write  much.  His  mind  must  be  trained  to  the 
habit  of  composing.  He  must  bring  himself  into  a  con- 
stant state  of  mental  productiveness.  He  needs  to 
acquire  such  command  of  himself  and  his  resources, 
that  composition  shall  be  a  necessity  to  him  aa  an 
expression  of  the  contents  of  a  full  mind. 

Izaak  Walton  wrote  for  the  love  of  writing.  Charles 
Lamb  wrote  all  his  works  for  recreation  in  the  intervals 
of  leisure  from  his  clerkly  toil  in  the  East  India  House. 
Probably  not  a  page  that  he  ever  wrote  was  a  drudgery 
to  him.  Walter  Scott,  till  his  brain  gave  way,  com- 
posed always  in  a  glee  of  enthusiasm.  His  daily  contri- 
butions to  the  press  he  captured  with  the  ardor  of  a 
sportsman.  He  often  hesitated  between  the  two,  — 
whether  to  sit  down  at  his  desk,  or  to  go  out  among 
the  hills  with  his  dog  and  gun  ;  for  he  enjoyed  both 
his  pen  and  his  gun  with  equal  zest.  He  gained  this 
pleasurable  ease  in  composition  by  long  and  constant 
practice.  He  used  to  involve  himself  in  literary  engage- 
ments purposely,  that  they  might  crowd  him.  He  said 
that  he  "  never  wrote  so  well,  or  felt  so  well,  as  when 
the  press  was  thundering  at  his  heels  with  the  demand 
for  more  copy." 

The  same  phenomenon  is  seen  in  the  history  of 
Shakspeare's  authorship.  Scarcely  any  other  feature 
in  his  professional  life  is  so  marvelous  as  the  amount 
of  his  work  and  its  rapidity.     His  working  life  wa« 


LBCT.  XX.]  QUALITY  AND   QU-ANTITY.  361 

compressed  into  about  twenty-three  years.  During  that 
time  he  gave  to  the  English  stage  an  average  of  twc 
dramas  a  year.  This,  for  such  productions  as  his,  and 
continued  through  a  series  of  years,  was  a  miracle  of 
intellectual  fertility.  From  the  age  of  thirty  years  to 
that  of  fifty-three,  Shakspeare's  mind  must  have  lived 
in  that  state  of  habitual  production  which  is  so  neces- 
sary to  one  in  the  clerical  profession. 

This  prolific  state,  so  far  from  degrading  the  quality 
of  production,  elevates  and  enriches  it.  As  the  force  of 
a  cannon-ball  is  augmented  by  its  velocity,  so  the  men- 
tal power  of  composition  is  reduplicated  by  rapidity  of 
creation,  if  regulated  by  good  taste.  This  mental  con- 
dition, in  which  composition  becomes  a  delight,  a  neces- 
sity, a  demand  of  nature  upon  a  full  mind,  is  the  habit 
which  a  preacher,  above  all  other  professional  men, 
needs  to  acquire  in  order  to  have  uniform  command  of 
natural  discourse.  You  can  not  acquire  it  but  by  large 
practice.  Thinking  will  never  give  it  to  you.  Study 
of  rhetorical  treatises  will  never  create  it.  General 
reading  will  never  do  it.  Criticism  of  the  works  of 
others  or  of  your  own  is  powerless  of  itself  to  meet  the 
necessity.  You  must  write  and  speak,  speak  and  write, 
till  pen  and  tongue  move  spontaneously  and  joyously. 


APPEl^DIX. 


CATALOGUE  OF  WORDS  AND  PHRASES. 

As  a  sequel  to  the  foregoing  Lectures,  I  proceed  now  to 
some  critical  remarks  upon  Words  and  Phrases  which  are 
chiefly  yiolations,  either  of  English  purity  or  of  precision, 
or  are  of  doubtful  authority  in  the  usage  of  good  writers. 
Many  of  these  are  of  special  significance  to  the  style  of  the 
pulpit:  others  are  of  more  general  importance.  In  this 
compilation  I  have  made  free  use  of  the  standard  works  on 
English  synonyms  and  on  Americanisms.  A  special  acknowl- 
edgment is  due  of  my  obligations  to  Pickering's  "Vocabu- 
lary," Bartlett's  "Dictionary  of  Americanisms,"  and  a 
manuscript  Catalogue,  resembling  this,  prepared  many  years 
ago  by  Professor  Park  of  Andover.  Such  a  list  of  words 
must  necessarily  be  of  temporary  authority.  The  language 
is  constantly  undergoing  changes.  Old  words  are  becoming 
obsolete :  new  words  are  coming  into  use.  The  obsolete,  in 
some  cases,  are  returning  into  scholarly  use.  In  the  same 
manner,  old  significations  of  words  retire,  and  return  again, 
and  new  significations  are  adopted,  perhaps  to  undergo  the 
same  mutations.  A  national  mind  is  one  of  the  most  stable, 
yet  one  of  the  most  mobile,  of  created  things.  The  litera- 
ture and  language  which  embody  the  recorded  thought  of 
a  nation  are  of  the  same  character.  The  act  of  creating, 
changing,  improving,  and  extending  such  a  catalogue  as  the 
following,  is  one  of  the  most  instructive  studies  of  the  mother- 
tongue,  and  one  of  the  most  effective  expedients  for  keeping 
one's  style  of  composition  in  scholarly  conformity  to  good 

863 


354  APPENDIX. 

usage.  Every  man  whose  profession  in  life  is  that  of  author- 
ship or  of  public  speaking  needs  the  disciplinary  influence 
of  constructing  such  a  catalogue  for  himself.  The  following 
is  offered  as  a  foundation,  subject  to  correction  and  expan- 
sion with  the  lapse  of  time  and  the  growth  of  the  language. 


A. 

Ability  and  Capacity  are  not  exact  synonyms.  The  one 
expresses  active  power;  the  other,  receptive  power.  But  the 
plural  "  abilities  "  includes  both  ideas. 

Adherence  and  Adhesion  were  once  interchangeable.  Now 
the  one  is  restricted  to  things  mental  and  spiritual ;  the  other,  to 
things  material.  We  speak  properly  of  adherence  to  a  principle, 
and  of  the  adhesion  of  iron. 

Admire  is  improperly  used  in  the  sense  of  "desire;"  as  in  the 
expression  "I  should  admire  to  go."  In  the  seventeenth  century 
it  was  used  to  express  wonder  alone.  Jeremy  Taylor  wrote,  "  In 
man  there  is  nothing  admirable  but  his  ignorance  and  his  weak- 
ness ; "  that  is,  nothing  surprising.  Modem  usage  has  added,  in 
its  use  of  the  word,  to  the  idea  of  wonder,  that  of  approval. 

Alone  is  improperly  used  in  the  sense  of  "only;"  as  in  the 
phrase  "  the  alone  God."  This  word  was  originally  written  "  all- 
one."  Thus  applied  to  the  Deity,  it  was  very  expressive,  and  was 
parallel  to  other  compounds  significant  of  the  attributes  of  God ; 
as,  "almighty,  all-seeing,"  etc.  Later  usage,  it  is  to  be  regretted, 
has  abandoned  the  ancient  form,  and  so  lost  from  the  word  the 
ancient  idea  of  unity.     "  Alone  "  and  "  only  "  are  not  synonyms. 

Alternative  is  often  used,  in  improper  construction,  in  the 
phrase  "which  of  two  alternatives."  In  strict  definition,  an  alter- 
native is  a  choice  between  two  things.  "We  say,  "  This  was  the 
alternative,"  and  then  specify  two  things  between  which  the  choice 
must  be  made.  Two  alternatives  imply  foxir  objects  of  selection. 
Dr.  Chalmers  employs  the  word  correctly  when  he  says,  "My  pur- 
pose might  have  been  expressed  in  the  following  short  alternative : 
that,  if  I  got  my  arrangements  in  the  parish  of  St.  John's,  I  would 
not  take  the  professorship;  but,  if  I  did  not  get  them,  I  would 
think  of  it."    Here  are  two  hypotheses  making  one  alternative. 

Among  and  Between  are  not  interchangeable.    "Between* 


APPENDIX.  355 

is  the  right  word  when  only  two  are  concerned ;  "  ftmong,"  when 
more  than  two. 

Ancient  and  Antiquated  are  not  synonyms.  An  antiquated 
thing  is  ancient:  an  ancient  thing  may  not  be  antiquated.  An 
ancient  institution  may,  for  that  reason,  be  the  more  worthy  of 
respect :  an  antiquated  institution  has  outlived  respect. 

Anon  is  now  obsolescent.  In  the  phrase  "  ever  and  anon  "  we 
sometimes  hear  it,  but  even  there  the  word  is  retiring  behind  the 
cover  of  poetic  license. 

Apparent  is  in  some  connections  improperly  used  as  the  syno- 
nym of  "  obvious."  To  say  that  an  occurrence  is  apparent  does  not 
necessarily  mean  that  it  is  real,  but  may  mean  the  reverse.  We 
speak  of  an  apparent  contradiction,  which  we  do  not  admit  to  be  a 
real  one.  The  phrase  "  heir-apparent "  suggests  the  contingency 
that  the  heir  may  not  come  to  the  throne. 

Apprehend  and  Comprehend  are  improperly  interchanged. 
To  apprehend  a  truth  is  to  perceive  it,  to  have  some  intelligible 
notion  of  it :  to  comprehend  a  truth  is  to  understand  it  in  aU  its 
compass.  These  are  important  words  to  the  pulpit.  We  may 
represent  the  mysteries  of  religion  as  apprehensible  by  the  human 
mind,  but  not  as  comprehensible.  To  apprehend  them  is  sufficient 
ground  for  faith :  to  comprehend  them  would  be  an  act  of  reason. 

Apprehensive  is  improperly  employed  in  the  sense  of  "  under- 
standing." "  Apprehend  "  and  "  understand  "  are  synonyms ;  "  ap- 
prehensive "  and  "  understanding  "  are  not.  The  element  of  fear 
enters  into  the  meaning  of  "  apprehensive."  We  say,  "  I  am  appre- 
hensive that  it  is  too  late."  It  is  rarely  used  now  in  its  etymological 
sense  except  as  a  technicality  in  philosophy. 

As  is  improperly  used  for  "that."  "  I  do  not  know  as  I  shall 
go  "  was  once  good  English :  now  "  as  "  thus  emplc  yed  is  a  vul- 
garism. 

Atonement  in  the  sense  of  "  reconciliation  "  is  not  pure  Eng- 
lish. Of  words  which  can  be  misused,  this  is  the  most  important 
one  in  the  vocabulary  of  the  pulpit.  Its  history  deserves  study. 
The  old  English  meaning  of  it  was  doubtless  its  etymological 
meaning,  "  at-one-ment."  This  must  be  conceded  in  the  discussion 
of  the  doctrine  whirh  it  now  expresses.  Shakspeare,  for  instance, 
says,  "  He  and  Aufidius  can  no  more  atone  than  violentest  contra- 
rieties." Fuller  speaks  of  Moses  as  ^^  atoning  two  Israelites  who 
were  at  variance."     Sir  Thomas  More  speaks  of  two  parties  aa 


866  APPENDIX. 

"  haying  no  more  regard  to  their  old  variance  than  to  their  new 
cuonetnent."  Beyond  question,  the  idea  of  the  word  in  all  these 
cases  was  "reconciliation." 

It  must  be  conceded  also,  I  think,  that,  so  far  as  the  notion  of 
"  satisfaction  "  for  sin  is  at  present  in  the  word,  it  has  been  put 
there  by  theological  science,  and  is  of  right  there  only  as  a  techni- 
cality of  theological  science.  But  that  the  idea  of  "  sacrifice  "  for 
sin  is  now  the  central  one  in  "  atonement "  is  no  longer  an  open 
question.  Modern  usage  has  fixed  this  interpretation  beyond  re- 
call. It  is  but  a  ruse  in  theological  controversy  to  assail  the  modern 
doctrine  of  atonement  under  cover  of  the  old  English  use  of  the 
word.     That  use  of  it  has  entirely  disappeared. 

Averse  fkom  vs.  Averse  to. — Which  is  right?  Usage  is 
divided.  Some  cling  to  the  first  phrase  on  etymological  grounds. 
Others  contend  that  the  second  phrase  has  vanquished  etymology, 
and  is  authorized  by  usage.  Noah  Webster  and  Dr.  Todd,  the 
editor  of  Johnson's  Dictionary,  contend  for  "averse  to:"  Dr. 
Witherspoon  and  Sir  James  Mackintosh  prefer  "averse  from." 
In  the  present  balance  of  authorities,  either  form  is  allowable ;  but 
it  can  hardly  be  doubted  that  the  etymological  form  will  be  dis- 
placed, and  "  averse  to  "  will  hold  ascendency  in  the  language.  It 
is  a  curious  phenomenon,  that,  when  an  etymological  form  has 
begun  to  yield  its  place,  it  rarely  becomes  firmly  fixed  again.  The 
drift  of  usage  is  to  its  exclusion.     It  is  like  a  loosened  tooth. 

Awful  in  the  sense  of  "  disagreeable  "  is  an  impropriety.  It  is 
a  provincialism  of  New  England.  Lambert,  in  his  "  American 
Travels,"  says,  "  The  country-people  of  New  England  speak  of 
every  thing  that  creates  surprise  as  being  awful:  they  say  an 
"  awful  wind,"  "  an  awful  hole,"  "  an  awful  mouth."  Robert  Hall, 
by  a  singular  lapse  from  his  usually  pure  dialect,  employs  the  word 
in  the  same  sense.  Two  travelers  at  Rome  once  criticised  Michael 
Angelo's  statue  of  Moses.  "  Is  it  not  awful  ?  "  said  one.  "  Yes," 
answered  the  other:  "it  is  sublime." — "No,  no  I"  rejoined  the 
other :  "  I  meant  awfully  ugly."  The  second  speaker  used  the  word 
in  its  legitimate  sense  of  "  inspiring  awe."  Dr.  Barrow  speaks  of 
Grod  as  an  "  awful  Being."  Dr.  Watts  describes  the  joys  of  heaven 
as  involving  "awful  mirth."  This  is  another  sense  of  the  word, 
that  of  being  '  filled  with  awe,"  once  in  good  use,  but  now  obsolete. 


APPENDIX.  857 


B. 


Base  used  in  the  sense  of  "  found : "  "He  base  I  his  argument  on 
testimony."  This  use,  till  a  very  recent  period,  xras  condemned  by 
critics ;  but  it  has  made  its  way  into  the  language.  Dr.  Whately 
employs  it,  and  he  rarely  uses  a  word  not  good  English. 

Belittle.  —  We  need  this  word :  we  have  no  exact  equivalent. 
Some  dictionaries  admit  it.  But  at  present  it  is  not  supported  by 
the  best  usage.  Mr.  Bartlett,  the  author  of  the  most  valuable  work 
•we  have  on  Americanisms,  says  that  Thomas  Jefferson  is  the  only 
author  of  distinction  who  has  employed  it.  He  is  not  sufficient 
literary  authority  for  the  creation  of  a  word.  This  word  is  one 
of  a  large  class  of  compounds  of  the  word  "  be  "  which  tempt  a 
loose  writer.  The  fact  deserves  notice,  that  more  than  a  hundred 
of  these  compounds  found  in  one  of  our  standard  dictionaries  are 
not  good  English. 

Beside  and  Besides  are  not  synonyms,  yet  are  very  frequently 
80  used  by  writers.  "  Beside  "  means  "  by  the  side  of : "  "  besides  " 
means  "in  addition  to." 

Betrayal  vs.  Betr a yment.  —  Which  ?  Dr.  Whately  uses  the 
first ;  Thomas  Jefferson,  the  second.  Both  are  condemned  by  some 
critics.  But  we  surely  must  have  one  of  them.  "  Betrayal "  is  the 
more  frequently  used,  but  "betrayment"  has  the  more  regular 
English  construction.  At  present  either  is  allowable,  but  usage 
inclines  to  the  first. 

0. 

Calculate  for  Think  is  a  provincialism  of  New  England.  Its 
proper  meaning  is  to  "  reckon."  By  a  singular  coincidence,  this 
latter  word  is  also  used  as  a  provincialism  at  the  West  and  at  the 
South  for  the  idea  for  which  "calculate "  is  employed  in  New  Eng- 
land. 

Can  but  vs.  Can  not  but. — Which?  Shall  we  say,  "I  can 
not  but  think,"  or  "I  can  but  think"?  The  best  usage  prefers 
the  former. 

Chastity  and  Chasteness  are  not  synonyms.  Dean  Swift  is 
eminent  for  chasteness  of  style,  but  not  for  chastity  of  thought. 
As  applied  to  authorship,  "  chasteness  "  means  rhetorical  purity. 
"Chastity"  means  moral  purity.     A  pure  woman  has  chastity;  a 


858  APPENDIX. 

pure  style  has  chasteness ;  and  both  are  chaste.  Yet  De  Quincey 
improperly  speaks  of  "chastity  of  style." 

Christen  for  Baptize  can  not  be  condemned  as  bad  English 
so  long  as  the  English  Church  retains  it.  But  it  does  not  at  all  ex- 
press the  true  idea  of  baptism.  In  perfect  English,  "  to  christen  " 
is  to  Christianize.  A  heathen  nation  is  christened  when  converted 
to  Christianity.  An  old  writer  says,  "  The  most  part  of  England 
was  christened  in  the  reign  of  King  Ethelred."  From  this  use, 
the  word  was  transferred  to  the  rite  of  baptism ;  that,  in  the  sense 
of  baptismal  regeneration,  being  synonymous  and  the  doctrine  of 
the  Book  of  Common  Prayer.  In  Shakspeare's  drama  "Henry 
the  Eighth,"  the  king  is  informed  of  the  birth  of  his  daughter 
Elizabeth,  and  asks  Cranmer  to  baptize  her,  saying,  "I  long  to 
have  this  young  one  made  a  Christian." 

Christianization. — We  have  no  such  word  in  classic  use, 
though  the  dictionaries  contain  it.  The  participle  "  Christianiz- 
ing" is  employed  in  a  substantive  sense.  Good  taste  avoids,  if 
possible,  words  of  six  syllables.     Saxon  idiom  chooses  brevity. 

Christless  is  to  be  found  in  dictionaries,  but  not  in  the  best 
authors.     It  is  a  barbarism  of  the  pulpit. 

Coeval  and  Contemporaneous  involve  a  nice  distinction,  for 
which  etymology  furnishes  no  reason,  but  which  usage  authorizes. 
"  Coeval  "  is  applied  to  institutions ;  "  contemporaneous,"  to  indi- 
viduals.    Authors  are  contemporaneous,  not  coeval. 

Community  should  not  be  used  without  the  article,  to  express 
the  idea  of  "population."  The  article  is  often  omitted  when  the 
word  expresses  the  abstract  idea,  as  in  the  phrase  "  community  of 
goods."  But  to  indicate  the  people  of  a  city  we  should  say  "  the 
community." 

Concept  and  Conception  have  a  history.  "  Concept "  was  once 
good  English  as  the  synonym  of  "  conception  '  Then  it  feU  into 
disuse,  and  now  is  revived  again  by  Sir  William  Hamilton  and 
others,  but  not  as  the  synonym  of  "  conception,"  but  to  signify  the 
idea  conceived.  But  in  any  sense  "  concept "  must  be  as  yet  re- 
garded as  a  technitality  of  psychological  science. 

Conditioned,  in  the  sense  of  "dependent  upon."  —  American 
dictionaries  recognize  this :  but  I  venture  the  opinion,  that,  in  the 
best  usage,  the  word  is  stUl  restricted  to  its  old  meaning ;  that  is, 
"stipulated." 

Conduct  ia  often  improperly  used  without  the  reflexive  pro- 


APPENDIX.  359 

noun;  as  in  the  phrase  "he  conducts  well."  It  slould  be  "he 
conducts  himself  well." 

Conform  with  vs.  Conform  to.  —  Which  ?  In  my  judgment 
this  is  one  of  the  cases  in  which  etymology  has  given  way  to  usage. 
The  Westminster  Catechism  obeys  the  usage  of  its  own  day  and  of 
ours  in  saying,  "  Sin  is  any  want  of  conformity  unto  the  law  of 
God." 

Continual  and  Continuous  are  not  exact  synonyms.  "  Con- 
tinual," commonly,  not  always,  means  "with  constant  recurrence." 
"  Continuous "  is  the  stronger  word,  and  means,  "  without  inter- 
mission." We  should  be  correct  in  saying,  "  Continual  interrup- 
tions prevent  continuous  study." 

Compound  Words.  —  I  add  this  phrase  here  in  order  to  give 
some  further  criticisms  upon  the  use  of  them.  The  following 
memoranda  deserve  notice :  — 

1.  The  presumption  is  always  against  the  purity  of  compounds 
of  great  length.  The  license,  in  this  respect,  in  which  the  German 
mind  luxuriates,  the  English  language  does  not  tolerate.  The 
Saxon  taste,  which  inclines  always  to  brevity,  keeps  multitudes  of 
words  of  this  structure  at  bay.  Individual  authors  coin  them,  but 
the  national  mind  rejects  them. 

2.  The  study  of  the  German  language  and  literature  should  be 
conducted  with  precaution  against  the  use  of  compounds.  Ger- 
man taste  manufactures  them  without  restriction.  The  German 
language  admits  them  without  violence  to  its  structure  and  its  his- 
tory. Not  so  the  English  language.  Yet  our  language  suffers 
from  the  use  of  German  importations  by  students  of  German  lit- 
erature who  are  not  classic  in  their  rhetorical  tastes. 

3.  Therefore,  whenever  a  compound  word  betrays  a  foreign  ori- 
gin, it  should  be  regarded  with  suspicion.  Some  such  words  have 
doubtless  become  good  English,  but  multitudes  of  other  such  have 
not. 

4.  Compounds  which  from  their  signification  are  likely  to  be 
of  clannish  or  technical  origin  should  be  suspected.  Multitudes  of 
such  words,  of  a  religious  character,  are  not  used  at  all  outside 
oi  the  pulpit.  Such  words  should  be  presumed  to  be  barbarisms 
till  their  right  to  a  place  in  the  language  is  proved  by  investigation. 

5.  Compounds  which  by  reason  of  their  construction  are  odd,  or 
diflBcult  of  enunciation,  are  presumptively  not  good  English.  Dr. 
Orville  Dewey  coins  the  word  "  rich-man-ness  "  to  express  pride  of 


360  APPENDIX. 

purse.  The  oddity  of  the  word  should  be  enough  to  condemn  it. 
Scholarly  taste  never  can  have  coined  such  a  word.  A  member  of 
the  American  Congress  once  said  that  he  v?as  not  a  good  speaker, 
and  that  he  was  obliged  to  hold  on  to  his  desk  and  steady  himself, 
if  he  attempted  to  use  the  word  "eleemosynary."  Many  of  the 
compound  words  which  are  lying  around  loose  upon  the  outskirts 
of  our  language,  if  tried  by  the  same  test,  would  fail  of  admission. 

6.  Compounds  which  evidently  descend  to  low  or  comic  style  are 
presumptively  not  pure  English.  A  writer  in  our  current  litera- 
ture coins  the  word  "go-ahead-a-tive-ness."  One  need  not  pause 
to  investigate  usage  to  know  that  such  an  abortion  as  this  has  no 
place  in  classic  English.  An  interesting  phase  in  the  history  of 
such  compounds  is  witnessed  in  the  history  of  the  Greek  literature. 
In  its  earliest  periods,  when  the  language  was  in  its  infancy,  as  in 
Homer  and  Hesiod,  compound  words  abounded.  When  the  lan- 
guage reached  its  maturity,  in  the  works  of  the  later  poets  and  phi- 
losophers, but  few  such  words  were  used,  or  recognized  by  classic 
authority.  They  are  not  favorites  with  Plato.  At  that  period  the 
large  majority  of  long  compounds  are  found  in  the  comic  writers 
alone.  Aristophanes  abounds  with  them.  He  is  reported  to  have 
once  coined  a  word  of  seventy-seven  syllables.  They  were  used  as 
an  expedient  for  expressing  low  or  ludicrous  ideas. 

A  striking  similarity  to  this  is  seen  in  the  use  of  such  words  in 
our  own  language.  They  multiply  in  number  as  we  descend  from 
serious  and  dignified  productions  to  the  comic  and  the  vulgar. 
Their  spawn  is  in  the  swampy  low  grounds  of  our  literature. 
Therefore  they  are  specially  incongruous  with  the  style  of  ser- 
mons. 

7.  Yet  it  must  be  admitted,  that,  in  our  language,  compounds  of 
two  syllables  are  very  numerous.  It  is  an  old  Saxon  usage  to  coin 
new  words  by  linking  two  old  ones.  Such  compounds  as  "  dog- 
star,"  "day-labor,"  "state-rights,"  are  perfectly  good,  and  scores 
like  them.  Why  some,  and  not  others,  are  admitted  by  the  na- 
tional taste,  it  is  often  impossible  to  say.  A  cultivated  taste  and 
a  delicate  ear  must  gradually  form  one's  style  till  extensive  read- 
ing has  given  to  it  a  classic  character.  Years  of  unbridled  license 
in  the  use  of  compounds  can  only  corrupt  one's  style  hopelessly. 

To  illustrate  the  danger  to  which  young  preachers  are  exposed 
in  this  respect,  let  me  rehearse  to  you  a  list  of  such  compounds 
which  I  once  transcribed  from  a  dozen  manuscript  sermons      They 


APPENDIX.  361 

were  the  foUovping;  viz.,  "Bible-readers,  Smpture-motives,  Bible- 
truths,  snail-like,  soul-absorbing,  soul-numbing,  soul-destroying, 
all-surpassing,  brimstone-sins,  peace-speaking,  soul-fiUing,  awe-in- 
spiring, woe-engendering,  sevenfold-heated,  hell-counsels,  never-to- 
be-reconciled,  stand-point,  world-worship,  world-worshipers,  night- 
revelers,  cross-bearing,  sin-polluted,  self-growth,  base-principles, 
heaven-high,  temple-builders,  heaven-born,  short-comings,  gospel- 
assurance,  well-wishing,  gaslight-views,  self-same,  heavenly-mind- 
edness,  winter-weary,  self-surrender,  sin-sick,  cloud-muffled,  white- 
lipped,  warmth-giving,  zest-giving,  heart-belief,  soul-calmer,  half- 
way-measures, God-fearing,  God-loving,  God-defying,  what-not, 
rain-or-shlne,  subject-matter,  serpent-like,  gospel-artillery,  all-em- 
bracing, Bible- doctrines,  quasi-poetical,  heart-obedience,  gospel- 
statement,  God-given,  say-so,  sin-disordered,  gospel-influence,  gos- 
pel-truth, gospel-sinners,  gospel-motiv^es,  gospel-hopes,  gospel-ideas, 
and  gospel-argument." 

I  admit  that  some  of  these  are  good  English.  1  have  purposely 
given  the  good  and  the  bad  together  in  order  to  present  an  exact 
picture  of  the  facts  in  the  structure  of  a  handful  of  sermons  writ- 
ten by  men  nearly  aU  of  whom  were  graduates  of  colleges.  At 
the  least,  four-fifths  of  these  compounds  have  no  other  authority 
than  that  of  the  pulpit.  Many  of  them  were  the  momentary  coin- 
age of  the  individuals  who  wrote  them  in  the  heat  of  composition. 
Is  not  the  good  taste  of  scholars  repelled  by  them?  More  than 
this,  is  not  the  taste  of  gentlemen  and  of  refined  women  offended 
by  them?  Coleridge  commends  the  diction  of  a  certain  class  of 
poets,  because  they  avoided  "  every  wor^  which  a  gentleman  would 
not  use  in  dignified  conversation."  Tried  by  this  test,  how  many 
of  these  compounds  of  the  pulpit  could  hold  their  place?  Al- 
though no  preacher  has  ever  used  them  all,  yet,  if  twelve  men  may 
coin  them  all,  one  man  may  adopt  them  all.  But  what  a  mon- 
strosity of  taste  such  a  style  would  be!  The  large  majority  of 
such  words  should  be  excluded,  for  the  sufficient  reason  that  we 
do  not  need  them  for  any  purposes  of  scholarly  and  manly  dis- 
course. Therefore  it  is  neither  scholarly  nor  manly  to  manufac- 
ture them.  The  very  soul  of  a  scholarly  style  is  put  out  if  such 
barbarisms  are  put  in. 


862  APPENDIX. 

D. 

Decided  vs.  Decisive.  — These  are  not  synonyms.  A  decided 
fact  is  one  which  is  beyond  dispute :  a  decisive  lact  is  one  which 
puts  an  end  to  dispute.  I  may  have  a  decided  opinion,  but  it  may 
not  be  decisive  of  a  controversy.  A  decided  victory  may  not  be 
decisive  of  a  campaign. 

Declension  is  improperly  used  to  signify  the  act  of  declining. 
It  is  a  good  word  to  express  a  state  of  decline,  or  the  process  o4 
decline.  But  we  can  not  say,  "  He  sent  in  his  declension  of  the 
office."  Webster's  Dictionary  admits  the  word  iu  this  sense,  but 
I  do  not  find  it  in  the  works  of  the  first  class  of  English  authors. 
We  need  a  word  to  express  the  act  in  question :  we  have  none  but 
the  participle  "  declining."  Somebody  was  in  distress  for  the  right 
word  who  reported  that  a  certain  officer  had  sent  in  his  "  declin- 
iency."  "Declinature"  may  yet  make  its  way  into  reputable 
use. 

Deed  used  as  a  verb  is  a  technicality  of  law,  not  good  English 
elsewhere. 

Deity  should  not  be  used  without  the  article  except  to  express 
the  abstract  quality  of  divinity.  It  is  not  the  proper  synonym  of 
"God."  Even  with  the  article,  it  deserves  to  be  noted  that  the 
word  is  in  the  pulpit  a  chiUing  and  repellent  synonym  of  "  God." 
One  clergyman  of  my  acquaintance  was  dismissed  from  his  pastoral 
charge;  and  one  of  the  objections  of  his  people  to  his  ministrations 
was,  that  he  called  the  divine  Person  " Deity."  The  objection  meant 
more  than  it  expressed.  It  meant  that  his  whole  style  was  indirect, 
impersonal,  abstract,  cold.  The  common  people  never  speak  of, 
probably  never  think  of,  God  impersonally.  The  pulpit  should  not 
be  less  intense  than  the  popular  thought  is  in  its  conception  of  the 
Grodhead. 

Delicious  vs.  Delightful.  —  The  first  should  always  be  re- 
stricted to  pleasures  of  sense.  We  should  not  speak  of  a  delicious 
joy,  or  peace,  or  communion.  Even  the  phrase  "delicious  music  " 
implies  the  predominance  of  the  sensuous  element  in  the  pleasures 
of  song.  This  is  one  of  a  class  of  words  by  which  the  pulpit  often 
degrades  spiritual  ideas.  We  have  inherited  from  a  former  age  a 
propensity  to  express  religious  thought  by  an  excess  of  sensuous 
imagery,  which  approaches  the  voluptuous.  Oriental  tastes 
demanded  this  :  Occidental  tastes  are  repelled  by  it.    John  Foster 


APPENDIX.  863 

condemns  the  usage  of  the  English  pulpit  in  reducing  so  much  of 
religious  experience  to  the  level  of  the  sense  of  taste.  He  says 
that  it  makes  religion  seem  "  as  if  it  were  cooked."  Sometimes  it 
is  not  even  that :  it  is  presented  raw. 

Delusion  vs.  Illusion.  —  These  are  not  exact  sy  lonyms,  though 
the  dictionaries  interchange  them.  Coleridge  writes,  "  That  illu- 
sion, contradistinguished  from  delusion."  Dr.  Whately  indicates 
the  distinction  tersely  by  recalling  the  etymology  of  the  two  words : 
illudo,  "to  make  sport  of;"  deludo,  "to  lead  astray."  Illusion 
exists  in  the  imagination  only :  delusion  affects  conduct  in  real  life. 
The  one  is  a  mental  error  in  a  passive  state ;  the  other,  a  mental 
error  in  active  working.  The  same  error  may  be  first  an  illusion, 
and  then  a  delusion. 

Depravity  and  Depravation  are  not  interchangeable.  De- 
pravity expresses  the  state  or  the  quality;  depravation,  the  act 
or  the  process. 

Deputize  is  one  of  the  numerous  coinages  of  verbs  by  the  Greek 
termination  ize.     The  right  word  is  "  depute." 

Deranged  vs.  Insane.  —  These  are  not  equivalents,  unless 
the  word  "  deranged  "  is  qualified  by  the  word  "  mentally  "  or  its 
synonym. 

Desk  for  Pulpit,  in  the  phrase  "sacred  desk."  —  This  is  an 
Americanism,  for  which  the  only  reputable  authority  I  have  met 
with  is  John  Quincy  Adams. 

Diction  and  Style  are  not  exact  synonyms.  Style  refers  to 
thought  and  language ;  diction,  to  language  only.  Yet,  where 
exact  definition  is  not  necessary,  these  words  may  be  interchanged. 

Differ  with  vs.  Differ  from.  —  Which?  Dr.  Worcester  and 
the  last  editors  of  Webster's  Dictionary  defend  the  first  of  these 
forms  as  being  in  good  use  in  England,  and  gaining  ground  in 
this  country.  They  give  Lord  Brougham  and  Mr.  Canning  as 
authorities.  These  are  hardly  conclusive  authorities.  In  this 
country,  my  observation  has  detected  the  phrase  chiefly  in  the  style 
of  newspapers.  If  we  admit  it,  we  must  admit  the  phrase  "  differ 
from"  also;  for  of  that  there  can  be  no  doubt.  "  Differ  with"  I 
prefer  to  note  as  doubtful. 

Disbelief  and  Unbelief  involve  a  distinction  of  great  moment 
to  the  pulpit.  "  Unbelief  "  expresses  less  than  "  disbelief."  It  may 
arise  from  ignorance  or  the  want  of  evidence.  *'  Disbelief  "  is  moro 
positive :  it  implies  that  evidence  has  been  considered  and  rejected 


864  APPENDIX. 

The  folly  of  an  atheist  consists  in  the  fact  that  he  aflBrms  the  nega- 
tive of  that  of  which  no  human  mind  can  know  a  negative.  Yet  the 
distinction  is  of  comparatively  recent  origin.  When  our  English 
Bible  was  translated,  the  distinction  was  not  clearly  recognized  in 
the  language.  Our  Lord,  therefore,  is  represented  as  denoimcing 
the  sin  of  unbelief,  when  the  thing  he  did  denounce  was  the  more 
positive  sin  of  rejecting  evidence. 

DisREMEMBER.  —  We  have  no  such  word  in  the  language.  I 
have  never  heard  it  but  in  the  city  of  Philadelphia. 

Donate  is  one  of  the  counterfeit  coins  of  verbs  from  substan- 
tives never  used  by  writers  of  critical  taste.  The  substantives 
"  donation  "  and  "  donative  "  are  good  words. 

Don't.  —  The  contraction  is  noticeable  as  being  often  used  col- 
loquially, and  sometimes  in  the  pulpit,  for  "  doesn't."  To  say,  even 
conversationally,  "  he  don't,"  is  not  grammatical,  unless  the  sub- 
junctive mood  is  employed. 

DoxoLOGizE.  — It  is  astonishing  that  so  scholarly  a  critic  as  Dr. 
Worcester  should  have  admitted  this  word  into  his  dictionary  on 
the  obsolete  authority  of  the  early  editions  of  an  English  diction- 
ary from  which  it  was  afterwards  excluded. 

Drouth  for  Drought.  —  A  relic  of  Anglo-Saxon  orthography. 
Used  by  Lord  Bacon,  now  a  vulgarism. 

E. 

Effectuate.  —  We  have  no  such  word  in  classic  use,  though 

dictionaries  contain  it. 

Endow  and  Endue  have  a  nice  distinction  in  good  English  use. 
"  Endow  "  may  be  employed  in  reference  to  any  qualities,  mental, 
moral,  or  physical ;  "endue,"  to  mental  and  moral  qualities  only. 
Solomon  was  endowed  with  wealth,  and  endued  with  wisdom. 

Energize  is  improperly  used  to  signify  exerting  energy :  its 
true  meaning  is  to  impart  energy. 

England  for  Britain.  —  The  error  here  is  rot  that  of  calling 
the  three  countries  by  the  name  of  one :  that  is  politically  correct, 
and  sustained  by  usage.  The  error  is  the  anachronism  of  desig- 
nating the  three  kingdoms  by  the  single  name  of  England  before 
their  imion.  The  most  scholarly  usage  would  not  authorize  us  to 
say  that  "  Caesar  invaded  England:  "  he  invaded  Britain.  So  Gaul 
was  conquered  by  the  Romans,  not  France. 


APPENDIX.  365 

Enthusiasm  vs.  Fanaticism.  —  The  distinction  between  these 
words  is  of  recent  origin,  but  is  of  great  moment  to  religious  expe- 
rience. Formerly  both  words  were  employed  to  signify  defects, 
both  being  morbid  excitements,  differing  only  in  degree.  Isaac 
Taylor,  in  his  volumes  on  these  manifestations  of  religious  fervor, 
treats  the  one  as  a  morbid  state,  the  other  as  a  morbid  state  at- 
tended with  malign  emotions.  Recent  usage  has  rescued  the  word 
"  enthusiasm  "  from  association  with  mental  disease,  and  author- 
izes now  its  use  to  signify  a  healthy  and  normal  excitement.  Says 
a  living  author,  "  The  Puritans  were  enthusiasts  for  religious  lib- 
erty, not  fanatics."     Fifty  years  ago  that  distinction  was  unknown. 

Epoch  and  Era  should  be  distinguished.  In  loose  usage  they 
are  interchanged,  and  the  principles  on  which  our  dictionaries  are 
compiled  lead  them  to  recognize  this.  Yet  the  distinction  is  valua- 
ble, and  the  language  is  improved  in  precision  by  retaining  it.  An 
era  is  a  succession  of  time :  an  epoch  is  a  point  of  time.  An  era 
commonly  begins  at  an  epoch.  We  live  in  the  Christian  era,  in 
the  Protestant  era,  in  the  era  of  liberty  and  letters.  The  date  of 
the  birth  of  Christ  was  an  epoch :  the  period  of  the  dawn  of  the 
Reformation  was  an  epoch. 

Equally  as  well  is  a  phrase  which  I  have  often  detected  in 
manuscript  sermons,  and  heard  in  the  pulpit.  It  is  redundant. 
"  Equally  well "  or  "  as  well "  is  pure  English.  But  "  equally  as 
well "  is  barbarous;  and  "  equally  as  well  as,"  which  is  not  unknown 
in  the  dialect  of  the  pulpit,  belongs  to  the  pre-adamic  age. 

Eternal  and  Everlasting  are  critical  words  to  the  pulpit. 
Modern  usage  has  developed  a  distinction  which  did  not  formerly 
exist.  "  Everlasting  "  means  now  "  without  end  ; "  "  eternal,"  with- 
out beginning  or  end.  Once  they  were  interchangeable.  Now  we 
should  not  designate  the  past  eternity  of  God  by  the  word  "  ever- 
lasting" except  in  biblical  quotations,  as  in  the  phrase  "from 
everlasting  to  everlasting."  On  the  same  principle  of  conformity 
to  usage,  we  drop  the  word  "  eternal,"  and  substitute  "  everlasting," 
in  defining  the  doctrine  of  future  punishment. 

Evangelization  is  one  of  the  long-winded  words  which  more 
classic  use  has  curtailed  to  the  participial  noun  "  evangelizing." 

Eventuate  is  a  barbarism,  like  "effectuate,"  the  origin  of 
which  is  unknown. 

Except  and  Unless  are  confounded  by  heedless  writers.  "  You 
tan  not  have  it  except  you  earn  it "  should  be,  "  unless  you  earn 


866  APPENDIX. 

it."  The  one  is  a  preposition ;  the  other,  a  con  junction.  Iheim- 
proper  use  of  "  except "  is  a  Southern  provincialism. 

Exhumate.  —  Somebody  has  coined  this  verb  from  the  good 
English  noun  "exhumation."     The  true  verb  is  "exhume." 

Expect  for  Thixk  is  a  vulgarism,  probably  suggested  by  the 
similar  use  of  the  word  "  suspect "  as  the  synonym  of  "  think." 
Both  are  provincial  vulgarisms  of  New  England. 

Extreme  should  not  be  used  as  if  it  were  the  positive  form  of 
the  adjective:  it  is  the  superlative.  Good  usage,  therefore,  does 
not  authorize  the  phrases  "  more  extreme,"  "  most  extreme." 

F. 

Fall  for  Autumn  is  not  objectionable  colloquially  ;  but,  in 
public  discourse,  "  autumn  "  is  in  better  taste.  It  is  to  be  re- 
gretted that  we  have  not  retained  uniformity  of  Anglo-Saxon  titles 
for  the  four  seascrs.  We  need  the  word  "harvest"  in  place  of 
autumn,  the  old  Saxon  "hearfest."  In  the  rural  districts  of  Eng- 
land one  often  hears  the  seasons  indicated  by  the  titles  spring, 
summer,  harvest,  winter. 

Falsehood  for  Falseness.  —  The  thing  for  the  quality  of  the 
thing  is  not  precise.  The  lie  is  the  falsehood :  the  untruthfulness 
of  it  is  the  falseness. 

Feel  for  Desire  is  a  gross  impropriety  often  heard  in  the  pulpit 
in  the  dialect  of  prayer.  "We  feel  to  thank  Thee."  The  origin 
of  it  I  do  not  know,  but  it  is  too  frequently  heard  to  escape 
censure. 

Fellowship  is  improperly  used  as  a  verb.  This  use  of  it  is 
generally  condemned  as  an  Americanism.  But  it  was  thus  used  by 
Sir  Thomas  Mallory,  in  the  "  History  of  King  Arthur,"  and  pub- 
lished by  the  celebrated  printer  Caxton,  in  1485.  This  error  is 
therefore  of  English  origin  ;  but  it  has  fallen  out  of  good  use  there, 
and  is  probably  one  of  the  words  retained  in  tlxis  country  by  the 
early  emigrants  from  Great  Britain.  Many  words  and  significa- 
tions of  this  class  are  now  supposed  to  be  Americanisms  which  are 
really  old  English,  now  obsolete  in  the  mother-country,  but  not  so 
here. 

Firstly  for  First.  —  "Secondly,"  "thirdly,"  etc.,  are  correct; 
but  "  first "  is  itself  an  adverbial  form.  Charles  Dickens  generally 
uses  "firstly."  De  Quincey  also  employs  it.  Preachers  are  ob- 
riously  much  exposed  to  the  error. 


APPENDIX.  367 

Fix,  in  the  sense  of  "to  put  in  order,"  is  incorrect.  It  is  an 
Americanism  which  has  no  aithority  in  scholarly  usage.  The 
proper  meaning  of  the  word  is  "  to  make  firm." 

Fixity  for  Fixedness  is  a  barbarism.     It  is  probably  imported 

from  the  French  Jixite.     To  illustrate  the  distress  for  a  barbaric 

style  which  literary  men  sometimes  manifest,  the  error  of  Robert 

Boyle,  the  Irish  philosopher,  deserves  notice,  in  coining  the  word 

fixidity." 

G. 

Genius  vs.  Talents.  —  What  is  the  distinction  ?  Criticism  is 
uniform  in  admitting  a  distinction,  not  so  in  defining  it.  The 
words  should  be  noted  as  by  no  means  interchangeable.  See  the 
word  "genius"  in  Webster's  Unabridged  Dictionary. 

Get  is  often  employed  tautologically,  as  in  the  expression  "  I 
have  got  it,"  when  the  meaning  is  only  that  I  have  it  in  possession. 
The  prejudice  against  this  word  and  its  inflection  "  got,"  which 
prevails  among  half-educated  people,  is  an  affectation.  Such  ia 
especially  the  preference  for  "gotten"  instead  of  "got."  The 
word,  with  its  grammatical  inflections,  is  perfectly  good,  even 
classic  English,  and  is  one  of  the  most  valuable  words  in  the  lan- 
guage. In  addition  to  its  variety  of  regiUar  significations,  what 
should  we  do  without  it  in  its  more  various  idiomatic  uses ;  such 
as,  "  get  at,"  "  get  ahead,"  "  get  clear,"  "  get  on,"  "  get  up,"  "  get  rid 
of,"  "  get  along,"  "  get  out,"  "  get  through,"  "  get  to,"  and  others  ? 
The  danger  of  scholasticism  is  on  the  side  of  fastidiousness  re- 
specting such  forms. 

Gift  is  improperly  used  as  a  verb.  I  have  sometimes,  not  often, 
heard  it.  We  have  the  participial  form  "gifted,"  and  probably 
the  verbal  use  of  "  gift "  has  been  coined  from  that. 

Gospel.  —  Improperly  employed  as  an  adjective  in  a  host  of  com- 
pounds for  which  the  pulpit  alone  is  responsible ;  such  as,  "  gospel- 
light,"  " gospel-privUeges,"  "gospel-truth,"  "gospel-preaching," 
"gospel-sinners,"  etc.  Not  one  of  these  is  in  classic  use.  They 
constitute  a  blotch  upon  the  style  of  the  pulpit,  which  is  exceed- 
ingly disgusting  to  scholarly  hearers.  Even  illiterate  hearers  hava 
!•  dim  instinct  which  disapproves  them. 


868  APPENDIX. 


H. 


Habit,  Custom,  Usage,  are  improperly  confounded.  Yet  I  am 
not  positive  as  to  their  true  distinctions.  I  suggest  the  following 
for  further  observation ;  viz.,  that  "habit  "is  commonly,  in  strict 
use,  limited  to  the  individual ;  that  "  custom  "  implies  the  consent 
of  numbers;  and  that  "usage"  is  a  long-established  custom. 
Thus  Shakspeare  says,  "  How  use  doth  breed  a  habit  in  a  man ! " 
And  Hooker  writes,  "  Of  things  once  received  and  confirmed  by 
use,  long  usage  is  a  law  sufficient."  It  may  not  be  that  these  are 
all  the  distinctions  among  these  words  established  in  the  language, 
but  I  think  they  are  true  so  far  as  they  go. 

Happify  is  a  barbarism  which  I  have  never  met  with  but  in  the 
dialect  of  the  Methodist  pulpit.  Even  "  dictionaries  tmabridged  " 
do  not  contain  it. 

Haste  and  Hurry  are  not  synonyms.  The  first  does  not  imply 
confusion :  the  second  does.  A  man  may  reasonably  be  in  haste, 
never  in  a  hurry.  Napoleon,  after  a  great  defeat,  when  minutes 
of  delay  might  bring  the  enemy  upon  his  retreat,  wrote  a  proposal 
for  an  armistice  of  a  few  hours ;  and  when  it  was  suggested,  that, 
to  save  time,  he  should  seal  the  document  with  a  wafer,  he  said, 
"  No :  give  me  the  sealing-wax  and  a  candle.  A  man  should 
never  seem  to  be  in  a  hurry." 

Healthy  and  Healthful.  —  A  valuable  distinction  has  grown 
up  in  recent  years,  which  is  not  yet  insisted  upon  by  the  lexicog- 
raphers ;  but  scholarly  usage  should  recognize  it.  "  Healthy " 
expresses  the  condition  :  "  healthful "  means  "  producing  health." 

Heaven  is  improperly  used  as  the  synonym  of  "  God."  Milton 
speaks  of  "the  permission  of  all-ruling  Heaven."  It  must  be  con- 
ceded that  old  English  usage  authorizes  this,  but  the  style  of  the 
pulpit  should  reject  it  for  its  theological  bearings.  Any  imper- 
sonal title  of  God  should  be  generally  avoided.  One  of  the  expe- 
dients by  which  the  pulpit  may  preserve  faith  in  the  personality 
of  God,  in  the  popular  theology,  is  by  never  using  language  which 
implies  the  opposite,  or  may  do  so. 

A  memorandum  deserves  note  here  on  this  word  as  the  root  of  a 
multitude  of  English  compounds  to  the  use  of  which  the  pulpit  is 
addicted,  but  without  scholarly  authority.  I  find  in  Webster's 
Dictionary  no  less  than  twenty-seven  such  compounds,  of  which 
only  the  six  following  have,  in  my  judgment,  the  support  of  good 


APPENDIX.  369 

use  or  good  taste;  viz.,  "heaven-descended,"  "heaven-bom," 
"  heaven-daring,  "  "  heaven-directed,"  "  heavenly-minded,"  and 
"heavenward." 

Heavenly-mindedness  is  one  of  the  cant  words  for  which  we 
are  indebted  to  the  Puritan  pulpit.  "  A  heavenly  mind  "  expresses 
the  idea  perfectly.  "  Heavenly-minded  "  carries  the  compound  to 
its  extreme. 

Hope  is  improperly  used  for  "  hope  for."  Dr.  Channing,  who  is 
not  often  guilty  of  unscholarly  English,  says,  "  We  may  hope  the 
blessing  of  God." 

How  is  often  improperly  employed  interrogatively  for  some 
such  query  as,  "  What  did  you  say,  sir  ?  "  This  is  a  colloquial  vul- 
garism of  New  England.  Thus  used,  the  word  has  no  meaning  to 
which  it  can  be  grammatically  applied.  A  man  not  accustomed 
to  the  dialect  of  cultivated  society,  if  he  has  not  understood  the 
remark  of  a  friend  says,  "  How  ?  "  meaning  that  he  desires  a  repe- 
tition of  the  remark.  Polite  usage,  in  such  a  case,  prescribes  the 
formula,  "  I  beg  your  pardon,"  or  "  Excuse  me,  sir."  These  have  a 
meaning  pertinent  to  the  case.  "  How  ?"  signifies  nothing.  Such 
colloquial  errors  would  not  deserve  a  place  here,  were  it  not  that 
the  indulgence  of  them  in  conversational  habit  inevitably  creates 
similar  violations  of  good  taste  in  written  style.  Dr.  Oliver  Wen- 
dell Holmes  remarks,  that  the  two  signs  of  ignorance  of  cultnred 
society  are,  that  a  man  eats  with  his  knife,  and  says,  "  Haow?  " 

I.      - 

Illy  for  III  was  in  good  use  in  Jeremy  Taylor's  time,  but  is 
now  obsolete. 

Imagination  and  Fancy.  —  See  Wordsworth's  Preface  to  his 
•*  Lyrical  Ballads."  That  essay  is  a  fine  specimen  of  literary  criti- 
cism, and  a  striking  example  of  the  power  of  a  great  author  to 
evolve  from  a  language  a  latent  distinction  which  the  national 
mind,  as  represented  by  its  educated  classes,  has  felt  vaguely  be- 
tween words,  which,  because  of  their  vagueness,  have  been  for  gen- 
erations used  loosely.  Probably  Wordsworth  has  fixed  those  two 
words,  with  their  present  meanings,  in  the  language  for  ever. 
What  is  the  distinction?  Both  words  express  exercises  of  the 
mind's  creative  power ;  but  "  imagination  "  is  the  more  profound, 
the  mora  earnest,  and  the  more  logical.    "Fancy"  is  the  moro 


870  APPENDIX. 

superficial,  the  more  playful,  and  often  the  more  capricious.  The 
national  Jiind  has  for  a  long  time  felt  this  difference,  and  has  ex- 
pressed it  in  the  words  "imaginative"  and  "fanciful."  It  did  not 
clearly  recognize  the  same  difference  between  "  fancy  "  and  "  imagi- 
nation "  till  Wordsworth  disclosed  it. 

Imperative  and  Imperious  are  very  far  from  being  synonyms. 
One  means  "  authoritative ;  "  the  other,  "  domineering."  God's  law 
is  imperative,  never  imperious.  Imperiousness  is  always  offensive. 
"  This  imperious  man  will  work  us  all  from  princes  into  pages." 

—  Shakspeare.     "  His  bold,  contemptuous,  and  imperious  spirit." 

—  Macaulay. 

Implicit  in  the  sense  of  " undoubting,"  as  in  the  phrase  "im- 
plicit trust,"  is  recognized  by  the  dictionaries,  but  not  by  the  most 
scholarly  authors.  Its  proper  meaning  is  the  opposite  of  "  explicit." 
"  Did  he  assent  to  the  contract?  Not  explicitly,  but  implicitly  ; " 
that  is,  by  implication.  Etymology  stUl  rules  the  signification  of 
both  these  words.  "  Involved "  and  "  evolved  "  express  the  con- 
trast of  ideas. 

Yet  it  must  be  conceded  that  the  word,  in  the  sense  here  con- 
demned, is  making  its  way  into  good  use.  Only  the  more  scrupu- 
lous authors  now  reject  it.  De  Quincey  makes  a  concession  to 
it,  when  he  says,  that,  in  all  his  reading,  he  had  found  only  two 
authors,  Coleridge  and  Wordsworth,  who  uniformly  employ  it  in 
its  old  etymological  meaning.  If  only  two  writers  within  a  large 
range  of  literature  are  faithful  to  its  ancient  use,  it  must  be  far  on 
towards  establishment  in  the  language. 

Improvement  as  applied  to  the  conclusion  of  a  sermon  is  novf 
obsolete,  and  was  always  a  technicality  of  the  pulpit  only. 

Inaugurate  in  the  sense  of  "introduce"  is  an  impropriety. 
The  proper  sense  is  "  to  invest  with  office."  It  always  refers  to 
some  official  solemnity.  The  derivation  of  it  from  the  old  Roman 
augur  indicates  this ;  the  augurs  being  the  officers  who  invested 
the  emperors  with  office  by  religious  ceremonies.  Yet  so  scholarly 
an  authority  as  "  The  North  American  Review"  says  that  a  cer- 
tam  ship  "  was  only  a  copy  of  a  model  inaugurated  by  ]Mr.  Collins." 
Grant  White,  commenting  upon  this,  suggests  that  the  writer 
should  have  added,  that  "  the  President  of  the  United  States  was 
invented  on  the  4th  of  March." 

Incident  is  improperly  confounded  with  "liable."  Says  a 
living  writer  "The  work  was  incident  to  decay."    He  should  have 


APPENDIX.  871 

turned  it  end  for  end.     Decay  may  be  incident  to  a  work:  tha 
work  is  liable  to  decay. 

In  spite  of  is  not  synonymous  with  "  notwithstanding."  It  is 
a  surly  phrase.  Is  there  no  difference  in  rhetorical  effect  between 
saying,  "in  spite  of  your  argument,"  and  saying,  "notwithstanding 
your  argument "  ?  Does  not  Shakspeare  imply  a  threat,  when  he 
says,  "I'll  keep  mine  own   in  spite  of  all  the  world"? 

Intend.  —  A  very  common  impropriety  of  the  pulpit  is  the  use 
of  this  word  as  the  synonym  of  "mean."  A  preacher  says,  "By 
this  I  intend,"  etc.,  when  all  that  he  wishes  to  express  is  his  mean- 
ing. To  intend  is  to  purpose,  to  will.  Mr.  Trench  commits  this 
error  in  his  "  Study  of  Words." 

Irreligionist  is  another  of  the  barbarous  coinages  of  recent 
years. 

J. 

Jeopardize  is  an  Americanism,  coined  with  the  Greek  form  of 
termination.     The  English  word  is  "  Jeopard." 

L. 

Lay  and  Lie. — The  preterites  of  these  two  verbs  are  often 
confounded.  Scholarly  thoughtfulness  is  requisite  to  enable  even 
an  educated  man  always  to  avoid  the  error.  Says  a  graduate  of 
Harvard  College,  "  He  laid  down."  He  should  have  said,  either 
"  He  lay  down,"  or  "  He  laid  himself  down."  I  once  heard  from 
a  theological  professor  in  the  pulpit  the  vulgarism  "lien  down." 

Learn  for  Teach  was  once  good  English,  signifying  either  to 
give  or  receive  knowledge.  The  Book  of  Common  Prayer  so  em- 
ploys the  word.     At  present  it  retains  but  one  of  these  senses. 

Lengthy  for  Long  is  very  common  in  this  country,  and  is  used 
by  some  English  reviews,  and  commended  by  some  authorities. 
But  "  lengthy  "  certainly  contains  an  idea  which  "  long  "  does  not 
contain.  It  includes  the  idea  of  tediousness,  and  therefore  it  is 
not  wholly  useless.    It  is  employed  by  Coleridge  and  Lord  Byron. 

Lieve  for  Lief.  —  The  latter  is  the  English  word.  Shakspeare 
is  classic  in  saying,  "  I  had  as  lief  the  town-crier  spoke  my  lines." 
The  meaning  is  "willingly."  Spenser,  in  the  "Faerie  Queene," 
employs  "  lief  "  as  an  adjective.  That  use  is  obsolete.  The  word 
is  an  old  Saxon  adverb. 

Like  for  As  is  never  heard  in  New  England,  but  is  not  excluded 


872  APPENDIX. 

even  from  the  pulpit  of  our  Western  and  Southern  States.  "  D« 
like  he  does,"  says  a  preacher  in  Tennessee. 

Like  for  Love.  —  We  detect  the  difference  between  these  worda 
as  soon  as  attention  is  called  to  it.  Yet  it  is  one  of  the  frequent 
evidences  of  the  want  of  colloquial  culture,  that  they  are  employed 
interchangeably.  A  man  should  love  the  truth,  not  like  it:  he 
may  like  a  leg  of  mutton,  not  love  it. 

LoNO  used  as  a  noun  is  a  very  frequent  error  in  the  style  of 
Alison  the  historian.  "  He  was  gone  for  long,"  says  Alison,  mean- 
ing, "  for  a  long  time." 

M. 

Magnificent  is  sometimes  used  as  an  unmeaning  superlative. 
It  is  a  noble  word,  and  should  be  restricted  to  its  real  signification. 
It  always  involves  either  the  etymological  idea  of  "  greatness,"  or 
the  kindred  ideas  of  " gorgeousness "  and  "costliness."  Thus 
Milton  writes, — 

"  Man  he  made,  and  for  him  built 
Magnificent  this  world." 

We  degrade  the  word  from  its  legitimate  uses,  if  we  speak  of  a 
magnificent  complexion.  As  employed  loosely  in  some  pulpits,  it 
is  in  peril  of  degenerating  to  the  level  of  the  French  exclamation 
Magnifique  I 

Mean  for  Means.  —  Till  recently  the  Scottish  writers  favored 
the  singular  form ;  the  English,  the  plural.  Since  the  time  of 
Addison,  English  and  American  use  has  adopted  the  plural.  It  is 
now  used  with  either  the  plural  or  the  singular  pronoun. 

Memories  for  Reminiscences. — "Sunny  Memories  of  Foreign 
Lands  "  is  the  title  of  a  book  by  Mrs.  Stowe.  The  attractiveness 
of  the  title  is  gained  at  the  expense  of  pure  English.  Of  the  sev- 
eral significations  of  the  word  "  memories,"  "  things  remembered  " 
is  not  one.  We  detect  the  error  by  putting  the  word  into  the 
singular.  We  do  not  speak  of  a  single  reminiscence  as  a  memory. 
Why  not,  if  the  plurals  of  the  two  words  are  synonyms? 

Methines  for  I  think  was  an  old  Anglo-Saxon  form,  but  it 
has  become  obsolete  except  in  poetry.  Yet  I  find  two  remarkable 
authorities  for  it.  One  is  Edward  Everett,  in  his  celebrated  vision 
of  "  The  Mayflower :  "  "  Methinks  I  see  it  now !  "  The  other  is 
Hawthorne.     Both  are  good  authorities.     But  Mr.  Everett  wrote  it 


A'f'PENDIX.  873 

thirty,  and  Hawthorne  at  least  fifteen,  years  ago.  It  is  imjirobable 
that  either  would  use  it  if  living  now. 

Mighty  for  Very  should  not  find  a  place  here  if  I  had  not 
heard  it  in  sermons  by  graduates  of  colleges.  "Mighty  small," 
"mighty  weak,"  etc.,  are  among  those  improprieties  which  creep 
into  one's  written  style  if  indulged  in  colloquially.  It  was  in 
reputable  use  in  England  two  hundred  years  ago. 

Militate  with  should  be  "militate  against."  We  say,  "  Con- 
flicts with,"  obeying  the  etymology  of  the  verb;  but  the  other 
phrase  has  no  such  defense. 

MissioNATE,  in  the  sense  of  "to  act  as  a  missionary."  —  It 
occurs  in  "  The  Missionary  Herald,"  and  is  occasionally  heard  in 
sermons.     We  have  no  such  word  in  the  language. 

Moment  and  Minute  are  not  synonyms.  The  "  minute  "  is  the 
sixtieth  part  of  an  hour:  the  "moment  "is  the  shortest  possible 
measure  of  time.  Says  St.  Paul,  "In  a  moment,  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye."  The  eye  does  not  require  a  minute  for  the  act  of 
twinkling. 

Moot,  improperly  employed  in  the  phrase  "moot-point."  — 
The  word  is  a  technicality  of  schools  of  law,  in  which  imaginary 
courts  are  held  for  the  disciplinary  exercises  of  students.  It  has 
no  classic  authority. 

Mutual  and  Common  are  confounded  in  the  phrase  " mutual 
friend : "  it  should  be  a  "  common  friend."  In  the  plural,  "  mutual 
friends  "  would  not  be  inaccurate,  meaning  that  two  persons  are 
friends  each  to  the  other.  "  Common  friend  "  means  that  a  third 
person  is  a  friend  to  two  or  more  other  persons.  "Mutual "  implies 
interchange. 

N. 

Nature  is  a  critical  word  to  the  pulpit.  It  is  often  so  employed 
as  to  confound  certain  theological  senses  of  it.  Of  the  variety  of 
meanings  attached  to  the  word  by  scholarly  usage,  no  two  are  more 
firmly  fixed  ^l.  the  language  than  these,  —  "  an  involuntary  constitu- 
tion "  and  "  a  voluntary  disposition  "  of  the  human  mind.  These 
are  not  creations  of  theology.  Popular  speech  recognizes  them, 
and  has  done  so  from  time  immemorial.  The  distinction  is  so 
radical  in  the  necessary  working  of  religious  ideas,  if  they  are 
pushed  to  expression  in  any  language,  that  every  language  must 
contain  it  in  some  form.     Our  language  unfortunately  expresses  it 


374  APPENDIX. 

by  radically  different  senses  of  the  same  word.  The  Scripture* 
use  the  vrord  as  variously  as  popular  speech  does,  loosely  in  appear* 
ance,  not  in  fact.  Confusion  of  thought  is  created  in  the  pulpit  if 
the  two  senses  of  the  word  are  blended  by  transferring  responsibil- 
ity for  a  depraved  disposition  over  upon  a  degenerate  constitution, 
because  both  are  properly  termed  "nature."  Are  we  "by  nature 
the  children  of  wrath  "  ?  No :  not  by  involimtary  constitution. 
Are  we  "  by  nature  the  children  of  wrath  "  ?  Yes :  by  voluntary 
disposition.  We  abuse  language,  and  confuse  the  truth,  if  we 
make  a  word  the  bridge  by  which  we  transpose  ideas  so  radically 
distinct.  Many  sermons  on  the  natural  character  of  man  are  con- 
structed at  one  end  of  the  bridge,  and  closed  with  an  application 
at  the  other,  with  a  downright  contradiction  between. 

News.  —  Is  it  singular,  or  plural?  Illiterate  usage  asks,  "  What 
are  the  news  ?  "    Milton  says,  "  lU  news  rides  fast." 

Nice  in  the  sense  of  "  agreeable "  is  an  Americanism.  We 
speak  improperly  of  a  "nice  day,"  a  "nice  fortune."  A  common 
vulgarism  in  metropolitan  society  is  to  designate  certain  persons  as 
"nice  people,"  meaning  that  they  are  agreeable  people.  The 
correct  meaning  of  the  word  is  "fastidious."  A  nice  critic  is  a 
critic  of  fastidious  taste. 

No.  —  The  phrase  "  whether  or  no  "  in  pure  English  should  be 
"whether  or  not." 

Notify.  —  Should  we  "notify"  a  meeting,  or  " notify "  an  au- 
dience of  a  meeting  V  The  English  and  American  usages  differ. 
The  English  pulpit  adopts  the  first ;  and  the  American,  the  second. 
The  English  follow  the  original  Latin  etymology,  deriving  the  word 
from  notifico.  The  Americans  follow  the  secondary  derivation 
of  the  word,  from  the  French  notifier.  The  English  form  is  the 
better  of  the  two  ;  that  is,  it  is  in  closer  affinity  with  the  structure 
of  the  language.  To  "notify,"  by  the  analogy  of  other  words  of 
similar  termination,  should  signify,  "to  make  a  thing  knowQ." 
Therefore  we  should  notify  the  meeting,  not  the  audience. 

o. 

Obligate  for  Oblige.  —  Richardson's  Dictionary  says  that  this 
word  "is  the  more  common  among  the  common  people."  Smart's 
Dictionary  says  that  it  "  is  never  heard  among  those  who  conform 
to  the  usage  of  the  upper  classes."    The  "British  Critic"  says,  "It 


APPENDIX.  876 

is  a  low,  colloquial  inaccuracy."  Dr.  Worcester  says,  "It  is  much 
used  in  the  United  States."  Webster  admits  it  without  objection. 
The  history  of  the  word  is  indicated  in  this  succession  of  authori- 
ties. Doubtless  it  was  formerly  a  barbarism,  but  has  been  grow- 
ing towards,  if  not  into,  good  use.  I  should,  for  the  present,  mark 
it  as  of  doubtful  authority,  but  recognizing  that  the  chances  are 
in  its  favor.  Some  critics  contend  that  the  derivation  of  it  from 
the  unexceptionable  word  "  obligation  "  should  settle  the  question. 
But  a  speaker  in  the  American  Congress  once  declared,  "Mr. 
Speaker,  I  hurl  the  allegation  back  with  scorn  upon  the  head  of  the 
allegator"  Did  the  correctness  of  one  word  here  follow  as  a  neces- 
sity from  the  accuracy  of  the  other?  English  usage  has  no  law 
for  coining  as  a  thing  of  course  one  word  from  another  closely 
resembling  it.  Every  word  stands  on  its  own  merits  ;  yet  not 
always  on  its  merits,  but  on  the  sheer  will,  even  the  caprice,  of  the 
national  mind. 

Obnoxious  and  Noxious.  —  Are  they  interchangeable  ?  By 
no  means.  "  Noxious  "  means  "  hurtful ;  "  "  obnoxious,"  only  "  un- 
popular." This  word  "obnoxious"  has  a  singular  theological  his- 
tory. It  once  involved  the  idea  of  just  liability  to  punishment  for 
sin,  oh  noxam  potna.  Dr.  South  says,  "  What  shall  we  say  of  the 
power  of  God  to  dispose  of  men,  —  little,  finite,  obnoxious  things 
of  his  own  making?"  That  is,  "things  justly  deserving  punish- 
ment." In  present  usage  that  idea  is  wholly  lost  from  the  word. 
It  means  "  offensive,"  nothing  more. 

Observation  and  Observance.  —  Are  they  synonyms  ?  No. 
The  one  means  the  act  of  "  taking  notice  of  : "  the  other  means  th.e 
act  of  "performing  some  duty."  We  should  not  say,  "  The  observer 
tion  of  the  sabbath,"  but  "The  observance,"  etc.  Astronomers 
have  recently  taken  observations  of  the  transit  of  Venus.  Faithful 
Christians  practice  the  observance  of  the  Lord's  Day. 

Onto  is  a  vulgarism.  The  two  prepositions  "on"  and  "to" 
may  occur  consecutively,  but  the  combination  is  often  used  where 
the  second  preposition  is  useless.  "  He  fell  onto  the  rocks." 
"  Upon  "  would  be  the  better  form. 

Open  up  is  a  phrase  recognized  as  idiomatic  English  by  lexicog- 
raphers, but  meaningless  in  its  structure,  and  not  used  by  the  best 
authors.  Why  "up,"  rather  than  "down"  or  "out"?  A  good 
general  rule  in  composition  is  to  check  one's  pen  in  the  vniting  of 
any  phrase  which  seems  to  be  redundant,  or  without  obvious  sense. 


876  APPENDIX. 

Ought.  —  It  should  not  be,  but  it  is,  necessary  to  caution  eren 
graduates  of  American  colleges  against  the  use  of  vulgar  inflections 
of  this  word ;  such  as,  "  hadn't  ought,"  etc. 

P. 

Paternal  and  Fatherly. — Which?  Both  are  good  words; 
one  Latin,  the  other  Saxon.  The  Latin  is  the  more  stately,  the 
Saxon  the  more  cordial,  in  its  associations.  The  Latin  might  be 
the  more  becoming  in  a  diplomatic  paper ;  the  Saxon,  vastly  the 
more  effective  in  a  sermon. 

Pitiful,  Piteous  and  Compassionate.  —  Are  these  words 
synonyms?  By  the  authority  of  dictionaries,  and  to  some  extent 
by  usage,  we  may  answer  both  Yes  and  No.  That  is  to  say,  contra- 
dictory meanings  are  attached  to  them.  Thus, "  pitiful  "  is  used  to 
express  "  feeling  pity,  exciting  pity,"  and  "  exciting  contempt."  The 
same  is  true  of  "piteous."  There  are  cases  in  which  it  is  expedient 
that  a  preacher  should  be  a  law  unto  himself  as  to  the  senses  in 
which  he  will  employ  language  in  the  pulpit.  As  far  as  the  struc- 
ture of  the  language  will  permit,  it  is  not  desirable  to  employ  the 
same  word  in  senses  diametrically  opposite,  even  if  usage  does  allow 
it.  For  example,  it  seems  inexpedient  in  a  sermon  to  express  the 
compassionateness  of  God  by  the  same  word  by  which,  in  the  next 
sermon,  we  express  the  contemptibleness  of  man.  Yet  this  we  may 
find  ourselves  doing  if  we  follow  all  possible  usage  in  the  use  of 
the  word  "pitiful."  Usage  will  uphold  us  in  saying  that  God  is  a 
pitiful,  that  is,  a  compassionate  being ;  and  that  a  certain  man  is 
a  pitiful,  that  is,  a  contemptible  being.  Usage  sometimes  gives  a 
liberty  which  good  taste  condemns  as  license.  As  a  general  rule, 
we  may  meet  all  the  necessities  of  the  pulpit  by  employing  the 
word  "  compassionate  "  to  express  the  idea  of  "  exercising  pity," 
"piteous  "  to  express  the  idea  of  "exciting  pity,"  and  "pitiful"  to 
express  the  idea  of  "exciting  contempt."  Thus,  the  good  Samari- 
tan was  a  compassionate  man;  the  man  who  fell  among  thieves 
was  in  a  piteous  condition  ;  the  thieves  were  pitiful  fellows. 

Plead,  used  as  a  preterite  form  for  "pleaded,"  is  a  corruption 
of  long  standing  in  the  language ;  is  found  in  Spenser's  "  Faerie 
Queene,"  but  is  almost  universally  avoided  by  scholars. 

Plenty,  used  as  an  adjective  for  "plentiful." — Dr.  Webster,  I 
think,  is  almost  alone  among  lexicographers  in  admitting  this 


APPENDIX.  371 

Shakspeare,  however,  employs  it:  "If  reasons  were  plenty  as 
blackberries,  I  would  give  no  man  a  reason  on  compulsion."  But 
good  use  is  generally  adverse  to  it  at  present. 

Power.  —  Note  the  confusion  of  its  literal  and  its  figurative  uses 
in  certain  theological  connections.  The  pulpit  gains  nothing  for 
any  theological  interest  by  attempting  to  change  or  to  ignore  either 
of  the  two  uses  of  this  word  and  its  synonyms,  in  preaching  on 
human  dependence  and  divine  sovereignty.  The  "  can  "  and  the 
"  can  not,"  the  "  power  "  and  the  "  want  of  power,"  the  "  ability  " 
and  the  "  inability,"  of  man  in  his  relations  to  God,  are  perfectly 
well  rooted  in  the  language.  Popular  usage  does  not  surrender 
either  of  them,  if  schoolmen  do.  Usage  has  fixed  one  sense  as 
literal,  and  the  other  as  figurative.  So  far  as  the  popular  mind 
is  concerned,  that  is  the  end  of  the  whole  matter.  In  the  attempts 
sometimes  made  to  distinguish  between  "  power "  and  "  ability," 
to  suit  theological  theories,  the  popular  mind  does  not  follow  the 
pulpit  at  all.  Usage  acknowledges  flatly  the  contradiction  in  ap- 
pearance, when  we  say  that  man  can  and  that  he  can  not  repent, 
yet  feels  none  in  fact,  any  more  than  in  any  other  cases  of  contra- 
diction between  the  letter  and  the  figure. 

Predicate  in  the  sense  of  "  found  "  is  an  Americanism,  confined 
chiefly  to  the  usage  of  the  bar,  as  when  an  advocate  says,  "I 
predicate  my  client's  claims  upon  admitted  facts ; "  meaning,  "  I 
found,"  etc.  This  is  entirely  opposed  to  the  classic  English  use. 
"  Predicate  "  means  "  to  assert,"  nothing  else. 

Prepositions  —  I  note  this  word,  only -for  the  sake  of  commend- 
ing a  very  valuable  catalogue  of  verbs  with  the  prepositions  which 
good  use  attaches  to  them,  in  the  Preface  to  Worcester's  Un- 
abridged Dictionary.  "With  not  more  than  one  or  two  exceptions, 
it  is  very  accurate. 

Pride  and  Vanity.  —  The  pulpit  is  misled  by  the  popular  error 
in  interchanging  these  words.  The  sin  of  pride  is  denounced 
when  the  connection  indicates  that  the  thing  denounced  is  not  that, 
but  vanity ;  not  the  self-contained  vice  which  despises  other  men, 
but  the  superficial  vice  which  depends  for  its  indulgence  on  the 
opinion  of  other  men.  The  Scriptures  are  keen  in  their  analysis 
of  human  nature,  when  they  condemn  pride  as  the  most  concen- 
trated of  mental  vices  and  the  most  corrosive  to  upright  character. 
Satan  is  pride  personified.  We  do  not  know  that  he  was  ever 
weak  enough  to  be  vain. 


378  APPENDIX. 

Profanitt  and  Pkofaneness.  —  Which?  Usage  is  tot  uni- 
form. The  latter  form  is  in  closer  analogy  than  the  fonner  with  the 
structure  of  the  English  language.  Professor  Park  says,  that,  if 
one  says  "profanity,"  one  may  he  supported  by  good  usage,  but 
that,  if  one  says  "  prof aneness,"  one  is  sure  to  be  thus  supported ; 
that  is,  the  first  of  these  forms  is  of  doubtful  authority. 

Professor,  used  as  the  synonym  of  "  communicant "  in  the 
church,  is  an  impropriety  limited  to  the  dialect  of  the  pulpit  and  to 
that  of  those  who  take  their  habits  of  speech  from  it.  It  is  never 
used  by  secular  authors  of  any  rank.  A  sermon  was  once  read  for 
criticism  in  my  lecture-room,  the  preacher  standing  at  the  right 
hand  of  the  presiding  officer,  the  subject  of  which  was,  "  The  In- 
consistencies of  Professors."  The  term  was  one  of  the  improper 
titles  used  in  homiletic  applications  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Payson. 

Progress,  employed  as  a  verb  intransitive,  should  be  marked  as 
doubtful.  Dr.  Worcester  says  that  the  majority  of  authors  of  the 
first  class  avoid  it.  Critics  commonly  condemn  it  as  an  Ameri- 
canism, but  it  is  not  such.  It  is  found  in  the  elder  English 
authors,  and  probably  was  in  good  repute  two  centuries  ago. 
Shakspeare,  in  King  Lear,  says,  "  Let  me  wipe  off  this  honorable 
dew,  that  silverly  doth  progress  on  thy  cheeks."  The  pronuncia- 
tion of  the  word  in  Shakspeare's  time  probably  accented  the  first 
syllable.  If  so,  the  word  was  one  of  those  forms  in  which  the 
verb  and  the  noun  are  distinguished  by  difference  of  accent ;  as  in 
the  words  "conduct"  and  "conrfucf." 

Punishment  for  Chastisement  is  frequent  in  the  pulpit,  and 
very  harmful  in  its  implications.  The  popidar  mind  is  quite  ready 
always  to  confound  affliction  with  retribution.  The  natural  the- 
ology of  Job's  friends  is  deeply  rooted  in  human  nature.  We  can 
not  be  too  careful  to  sharpen  the  popular  thought  of  sin  by  accu- 
rate use  of  words  expressive  of  its  penalties.  "Punishment" 
should  not  be  applied  to  any  suffering  which  is  corrective.  Such  a 
use  of  it  tends  to  confuse  the  popular  idea  of  the  atonement.  If 
disciplinary  suffering  is  punishment,  the  suffering  of  Christ  may 
be  such.  It  can  not  be  proved  that  any  individual  suffering  in  this 
world  is  retributive.  I  do  not  say  that  it  is  never  so,  but  that  it 
can  not  in  any  individual  case  be  proved.  We  need,  for  the  con- 
struction of  a  self -consistent  theology,  to  draw  a  sharp  line  of  dis- 
tinction between  retributive  and  corrective  suffering.  A  truthful 
faith  respecting  the  retribution  of  eternity  depends  on  this. 


APPEin>ix.  8T9 

Qdite  In  the  sense  of  "very"  is  not  good  English ;  as  in  the  ex« 
pression  "  quite  recently,"  or  "  the  discourse  was  quite  long."  Th« 
true  meaning  of  "  quite  "  is  "  entirely." 

R. 

Raise  is  improperly  employed  in  two  American  provincialisms, 
one  used  in  the  Southern  States,  and  the  other  in  the  Northern. 
Southern  usage  says,  "  He  was  raised  in  Alabama ; "  "  raise  "  being 
used  in  the  sense  of  "to  bring  up."  Northern  usage  says,  "They 
raised  a  committee ; "  "  raise  "  being  used  in  the  sense  of  "  to  ap- 
point."   Classic  English  admits  neither. 

Rather,  in  the  phrase  "  I  had  rather,"  should  be  preceded  by 
"would"  instead  of  "had."  "Rather"  expresses  a  preference. 
"  Had  rather  "  is  probably  a  corruption  of  the  phrase  "  had  better," 
which  is  a  pure  English  idiom.  The  translators  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment into  English  committed  the  error  in  making  the  Psalmist 
say,  "I  had  rather  be  a  doorkeeper  in  the  house  of  my  God." 

Rational  and  Reasonable  are  not  interchangeable.  "  Ration- 
al "  refers  to  the  existence  of  reason ;  "  reasonable,"  to  its  exercise. 
To  say  that  an  opinion  is  irrational  is  to  say  that  it  implies  the  loss 
or  suspension  of  reason :  to  pronounce  an  opinion  unreasonable 
is  only  to  say  that  the  arg-uments  in  support  of  it  are  not  sufB.- 
cient.  I  may  hold  unreasonable  opinions  which  are  not  irrational : 
my  deficiency  may  be  in  a  perverted  use  of  reason,  not  in  the  loss 
of  it. 

Realize  in  the  sense  of  "  appreciate  "  or  "  feel."  —  Secular  critics 
condemn  the  religious  use  of  this  word ;  as,  in  the  phrase  "  realize 
the  magnitude  of  eternity."  They  are  supported  by  the  most 
reputable  usage  among  secular  authors.  I  would  not,  therefore, 
employ  the  word  in  this  sense  in  any  secular  composition.  But, 
in  the  representation  of  religious  experience,  this  meaning  of  the 
word  is  a  necessity.  We  have  no  other  which  is  adequate.  I 
would  not,  therefore,  exclude  it  from  the  pulpit.  Let  it  be  toler- 
ated, as  other  religious  or  scientific  technicalities  are.  The  techni- 
cal dialect  of  the  clerical  profession,  so  far  as  it  is  necessary  to  the 
business  of  the  profession,  has  the  same  right  to  existence  in  the 
language  which  the  dialect  of  other  professions  has,  and  no  more. 


880  APPENDIX. 

Keasox  and  Understanding.  —  Shall  we  ad  nit  the  distinction 
between  these  words  for  which  Coleridge  contends?  Philosophically 
the  distinction  may  be  true :  that  is  one  thing.  If  true,  we  must 
admit  it,  at  least,  as  having  a  place  among  the  technicalities  of 
philosophy.  Whether  usage  has  adopted  the  distinction  into  nar 
tional  English  is  another  question,  and  must  be  answered  in  the 
negative.  A  preacher  would  seem  to  his  audience  to  talk  nonsense, 
who  should  preach  a  sermon  founded,  as  even  a  practical  sermon 
might  be,  upon  that  distinction.  The  popular  mind  knows  nothing 
of  it. 

Reluct  and  Reluctate  are  both  barbarisms,  though  some  dic- 
tionaries admit  them  on  the  authority  of  authors  of  inferior  rank. 

Remorse  should  not  be  employed  to  express  only  the  sense  of 
sin.  This  suggestion  is  of  great  significance  to  the  pulpit.  Re- 
member always,  in  the  use  of  this  word,  its  etymological  meaning, 
"remordeo,"  "to  bite  back."  This  idea  the  word  has  never  lost. 
Remorse  is  retaliatory,  not  salutary.  It  tends  to  no  good.  Shak- 
epeare  says,  "  Nero  will  be  tainted  with  remorse."  Never  exhort  a 
sinner  to  cherish  remorse.  Penitence  and  hope  should  accompany 
a  sense  of  sin ;  then  remorse  ceases.  The  sense  of  sin  then  be- 
comes remedial,  as  distinct  from  retributive.  Yet  the  ancient 
usage  of  the  pulpit  was  so  loose  on  this  point,  that,  to  this  day,  the 
conviction  of  sin  and  remorse  are  often  confounded  in  the  popular 
mind.  I  doubt  whether  John  Randolph,  when  on  his  death-bed  he 
could  not  speak,  but  wrote  on  a  card  the  word  "  remorse,"  meant 
any  thing  more  than  that  he  felt  himself  to  be  a  great  sinner. 

Remove,  in  the  phrase  "  an  infinite  remove,"  is  erroneous.  Usage 
limits  the  use  of  the  word  in  such  connections  to  a  small  distance. 
Addison  says,  "  A  freeholder  is  but  one  remove  from  a  legislator." 

Retrospect  used  as  a  verb.  — It  is  admitted  by  some  lexicogra- 
phers, but  rarely  acknowledged  by  good  writers. 

Ride  and  Drive.  — English  usage  makes  a  distinction  between 
these  words  which  is  not  commonly  recognized  in  this  country, 
but  is  a  valuable  one,  and  it  augments  the  precision  of  the  lan- 
guage.    A  "  ride  "  is  in  the  saddle  :  a  "  drive  "  is  in  a  carriage. 

Rugged  and  Hardy  are  not  synonyms.  "  Rugged  "  is  "  rough." 
We  should  not  speak  of  "rugged  health." 


APPENDIX.  381 


S. 


Sang,  Spake,  Sprang,  have,  for  the  most  part,  yielded  to  the 
more  modern  forms,  "  sung,"  "  spoke,"  "  sprung."  These  double 
forms  originally  expressed  different  numbers  of  the  tense.  "  Sang  " 
was  the  singular  ;  and  "  sung,"  the  plural.  The  disappearance  of 
this  distinction  leaves  no  occasion  for  the  retention  of  both  forms, 
and  the  old  singular  forms  are  obsolescent. 

Save  for  Except  is  obsolete,  except  in  poetry  and  in  biblical 
quotation. 

Scripturality  is  not  used  by  authors  of  the  first  class.  Yet 
■we  have  no  one  word  to  take  its  place. 

Security  and  Safety  are  often  interchanged,  yet  are  not  syno- 
nyms ;  and  the  distinction  between  them  is  one  which  it  is  desira- 
ble to  retain.  "  Security "  retains  somewhat  of  its  etymological 
meaning  of  "freedom  from  care."  Preachers  speak  classically  of 
a  sinner's  "  false  security,"  not  of  his  "  false  safety." 

Self-love  and  Selfishness  have  a  very  marked  distinction, 
often  overlooked,  which  is  fundamental  in  theology.  Ever  since 
Bishop  Butler's  day,  the  distinction  has  been  established.  He  says, 
"  Men  would  be  much  better  than  they  are  if  they  had  more  self- 
love."  Self-love  is  a  legitimate  and  unavoidable  exercise  of  intel- 
ligent beings:  selfishness  is  not  such.  The  one  is  innocent;  the 
other,  a  sin.  The  popular  query  of  the  last  generation  in  New 
England  "  Must  a  man  be  willing  to  be  damned  in  order  to  be 
saved?  "  would  never  have  been  asked  if  the  pulpit  had  never  con- 
founded these  words. 

Selfsame  is  obsolescent,  and  was  never  in  classic  use.  "  Same  " 
expresses  the  whole  idea. 

Sensual  and  Sensuous  are  liable  to  confusion  in  the  usage  of 
the  pulpit.  The  former  always  involves  moral  wrong :  the  latter  is 
only  a  philosophical  term.  All  men  are  sensuous  beings :  only  bad 
men  are  sensual  beings.  Our  Saviour  in  human  form  was  sensu- 
ous, but  not  sensual. 

Shall  and  Will  are  improperly  interchanged.  In  Ireland, 
"  will "  is  frequently  employed  for  "  shall ; "  and  in  Scotland  the 
reverse  is  common.  In  the  Southern  and  some  of  the  Western  States 
of  this  country,  the  Irish  error  is  frequent.  "  I  wiU  need  the  means 
of  going,"  says  a  native  of  Virginia.  The  structure  of  our  language 
tempts  one  to  this  error.    In  declension  we  are  taught  to  say,  "  I 


382  APPENDIX. 

will,  you  shall,  he  shall ; "  but  we  reverse  the  forms,  and  say,  "  1 
shall,  you  will,  he  will."  It  is  out  of  this  irregularity  of  declen- 
sion, probably,  that  the  error  has  arisen. 

Shew  for  Shewed,  and  pronounced  as  if  it  were  "shue,"  is  a 
singular  corruption,  often  heard  in  the  city  of  Boston  among  some 
who  call  themselves  people  of  culture.  "  He  shew  me  how  to  do 
it."    I  have  never  encountered  this  vulgarism  elsewhere. 

Shortcomings  is  authorized  by  the  dictionaries,  but  is  one  of 
the  cant  phrases  of  an  uneducated  pulpit.  It  is  almost  hopelessly 
rooted  in  a  barbarous  dialect  of  prayer.  When  you  are  tempted 
to  use  it,  remember  that  "  Cummings  "  is  a  not  uncommon  family 
name  in  New  England,  and  that  those  who  bear  it  differ  in  stature. 
De  Quincey  condemns  the  word  as  a  Scotticism.  He  says  that 
it  is  "  horridly  tabernacular,"  that  "  no  gentleman  would  touch  it 
without  gloves ;  "  and,  with  his  usual  respect  for  the  clergy,  he  ad- 
vises that  "it  be  resigned  henceforth  to  the  use  of  preachers." 

Sldehill  should  give  place  to  the  more  classic  form  "hillside." 

Some  is  improperly  used  for  "somewhat."  "Is  the  patient 
better  ?  "  —  "  Some  better."     "  Does  it  rain  ?  "  —  "  Yes,  some. " 

Solemnize,  in  the  sense  of  "  to  make  solemn." — "Solemnize  our 
minds  "  is  often  heard  in  extemporaneous  prayer.  This  and  the 
word  "  shortcomings  "  are  potent  arguments  for  a  Liturgy.  "  Sol- 
emnize," however,  is  not  a  barbarism:  it  is  a  good  and  ancient 
English  word.  It  means  "to  celebrate  a  religious  ceremony." 
We  properly  speak  of  "  solemnizing  "  a  marriage.  In  Shakspeare's 
time,  even  the  word  "solemn"  was  employed  in  similar  connec- 
tions, but  without  any  necessary  idea  of  seriousness.  It  was  em- 
ployed in  reference  to  any  important  ceremony.  Macbeth,  on  the 
occasion  of  his  coronation,  says,  "  To-night  we  hold  a  solemn  sup- 
per;" that  is,  "a  festival  of  inauguration."  From  such  a  history 
the  word  "  solemnize  "  has  grown. 

Soul.  —  I  note  this  word  for  the  sake  of  a  criticism  upon  its 
very  numerous  compounds.  I  find  in  Webster's  Dictionary  no  less 
than  thirty-five  such  compounds,  of  which  not  more  than  three  can 
be  said  to  be  in  classic  use.  All  the  rest  are  a  burden  of  barba- 
rism upon  the  forces  of  the  language. 

Spiritual-mindedness  is  another  of  the  long-waisted  cant 
words  of  the  pulpit.  "  A  spiritual  mind"  expresses  the  whole  idea, 
and  is  a  form  which  would  not  repel  a  scholarly  taste. 

Station  vs.  Depot.  —  Which?    By  authority  of  usage,  both; 


APPENDIX.  883 

but  by  that  of  good  taste,  "  station  "  is  the  purer  English.  It 
is  English  in  its  structure,  and  is  generally  used  in  England. 
"  Depot "  is  of  French  origin ;  and,  in  the  American  use  of  it,  it  is 
diverted  from  its  French  signification,  which  is  "  a  depository  for 
freight."  If  we  follow  the  French,  why  not  do  so  in  pronunciation 
of  the  word  ?  Our  language  would  be  improved  by  the  adoption 
of  both  words,  retaining  severally  the  English  and  the  French 
significations.  Let  passengers  be  deposited  at  a  "station,"  and 
freight  at  a  "  depdt."  For  the  present,  however,  we  must  defer 
to  usage,  but  with  a  protest. 

Stricken  for  Struck  is  an  impropriety,  except  in  the  usage  of 
legislative  bodies.  A  clause  is  spoken  of  as  "stricken"  from  a 
legislative  bill.  In  other  connections  the  word  is  the  synonym  of 
"  afflicted." 

Sundown  should  give  way  to  the  more  classic  form  "sunset." 
Even  the  common  people  of  England  prefer  the  latter  form. 

Sympathy  and  Pity  are  not  exact  synonyms.  "  Sympathy"  has 
never  lost  entirely  its  etymological  sense  of  feeling  with  another. 
It  is  a  finer  exercise  of  benevolence  than  "  pity."  We  may  pity 
one  whom  we  despise :  we  can  not  sympathize  with  such  a  one. 

Systemize.  —  One  of  the  few  cases  in  which  usage  has  tri- 
umphed over  the  Saxon  love  of  brevity  in  the  growth  of  our 
language  is,  that  we  must  say,  not  "  systemize,"  but  "  systematize." 

T. 

Talent  vs.  Talents.  —  Which  ?  Both,  but  not  as  synonyms. 
"  Talent "  should  not  be  employed  collectively.  We  may  not  say, 
"  a  man  of  talent,"  but  "  of  talents." 

Temper  for  Anger.  —  The  proper  English  sense  of  the  word 
"  temper  "  is  just  the  opposite  of  anger.  It  contains  the  same  idea 
which  is  in  its  derivative  "  temperate."  It  means  moderation  or 
self-possession.  Pope  writes,  "  Teach  me  ...  to  fall  with  dig- 
nity, with  temper  rise." 

Thanks  1  for  the  phrase  /  thank  you,  is  an  exclamation  in  col- 
loquial use,  of  very  recent  origin.  It  is  criticised  by  a  respectable 
class  of  conservators  of  go»->d  English.  Yet  it  is  a  curious  fact 
thai  the  innovation  is  practiced  chiefly  by  those  who  profess  to  be 
men  and  women  of  culture.  Rarely  do  we  hear  it  from  the  lipi 
of  the  common  people.    It  is  an  affectation  originated  by  some* 


384  APPENDIX. 

body  who  mistook  eccentricity  for  smartness.  In  my  judgment 
it  is  sure  to  be  ephemeral.  It  is  one  of  those  affectations  of  urban 
society  which  the  sturdy  good  sense  of  the  people  will  reject. 
Already  protests  against  it  begin  to  be  heard.  I  have  been  re- 
cently informed  that  one  of  the  most  eminent  groups  of  literary 
men  in  this  country  have  agreed  to  avoid  it  in  the  interest  of  Saxon 
purity  of  colloquial  English.  Tennyson,  if  report  speaks  truly, 
has  recently  reproved  it  in  one  of  his  own  guests  by  responding  to 
it,  "  Thanks,  yes,  or  Thanks,  no?  —  which  is  it?  " 

It  is  a  safe  general  rule,  never  to  adopt  the  colloquial  noveltiea 
which  the  society  of  cities  originates,  on  such  authority  alone. 
Metropolitan  taste,  as  such,  nowhere  represents  either  the  moat 
accomplished  scholarship  or  the  soundest  good  sense  in  the  use  o^ 
language.  If  the  backwoods  and  the  lowgrounds  of  society  corrupt 
the  language  in  their  speech,  the  ruling  classes  of  great  cities  do  the 
same,  with  less  excuse  for  their  error.  The  impure  English  origi- 
nated by  them  would  make  a  small  dictionary  by  itself.  The  mul- 
titude of  the  great  middle  classes  in  the  social  scale,  as  a  rule, 
speak  purer  English  than  either  extreme. 

The.  —  I  note  this  article  for  the  sake  of  observing  the  error  of 
omitting  it  from  a  variety  of  words  for  which  precision  requires  it. 
We  have  observed  its  omission  from  the  word  "community." 
Other  words  are  subjected  to  the  same  decapitation.  "  Opposi- 
tion," "ministry,"  "presbytery,"  "councU,"  "congress,"  are  exam- 
ples. We  say,  "  The  Senate,  the  House  of  Representatives  :  "  why 
not  "  the  Congress "  as  well  ?  This  was  the  usage  of  the  most 
scholarly  men  among  the  statesmen  of  the  first  age  of  the  repub- 
lic. It  is  said  to  have  been  revived  by  President  Arthur.  The 
most  unscholarly  omission  of  the  article,  in  which  the  error  is  open 
to  the  charge  of  irreverence,  is  in  the  use,  without  the  article,  of 
the  titles  of  the  divine  Trinity  in  the  formula  of  baptism  and  the 
closing  ascription  in  prayer :  "  In  the  name  of  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Ghost !  "  Is  not  the  use  of  the  article  before  each  title  more 
reverent  ?  By  the  more  deliberate  utterance  which  it  compels,  the 
sentiment  of  reverence  gains  time  to  express  itself.  My  attention 
was  first  called  to  this  by  a  hearer  who  said  that  a  certjrfn  preach- 
er's rapid  utterance  of  the  trinitarian  formula  without  the  article 
reminded  him  of  the  title  of  a  mercantile  firm,  like  "  Smith,  Jones, 
&  Robinson." 

Thkk  should  not  be  used  adjectively.    Edmund  Burke,  who  doei 


APPENDIX.  885 

not  often  fall  into  errors  of  style,  speaks  of  himself  as  being  "  un- 
known to  the  then  ministry."  Had  he  said  "the  then  existing 
ministry,"  he  would  have  used  good  English. 

This  or  That  for  Thus.  —  "This  much,"  "that  much,"  are 
modern  corruptions.  I  have  no  notion  of  their  origin,  unless  they 
are  perversions  of  the  phrase  "thus  much."  They  have  no  hold 
upon  good  authority. 

Transpire.  —  What  is  its  meaning  ?  To  "  happen,"  or  to  "  be- 
come  known  "  ?  The  latter  surely :  it  has  no  other  signification  in 
good  English  use,  the  dictionaries  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding. 
This  is  one  of  the  cases  in  which  the  liberty  allowed  by  lexicog- 
raphers degenerates  into  license.  The  idea  of  this  word  is  very 
accurately  given  by  the  phrase  "to  leak  out."  "Transpire"  and 
"  perspire  "  are  etymologically  nearly  identical.  They  both  imply 
the  passing-out  of  something  imperceptibly.  Usage,  therefore,  has 
taken  the  word  "  transpire  "  to  express  the  coming  of  a  secret  thing 
to  publicity.  If  you  associate  these  two  words  in  your  minds,  the 
one  may  assist  you  to  remember  the  true  meaning  of  the  other. 
A  New- York  journal  spoke  of  the  Mexican  War  as  "  transpiring 
in  1847."  Grant  White,  commenting  on  the  style,  observes,  that, 
considering  the  latitude  in  which  the  war  occurred,  the  writer 
might  as  properly  have  said  that  "the  war  perspired  in  1847." 

u. 

Ugly,  in  the  sense  of  "  ill-naturedi"  is,  for  the  most  part,  found 
only  in  this  country.  The  English  sense  of  the  word  is  "  disagree- 
able in  personal  appearance."  In  pure  English  we  speak  of  an 
ugly  countenance,  not  of  an  ugly  disposition. 

Unbeknown  is  a  vulgarism.  We  have  no  such  word  in  the  lan- 
guage. 

Un.  —  Let  this  prefix  be  noted  for  the  sake  of  observing  that 
one  of  our  standard  dictionaries  admits  nearly  three  hundred  words 
of  compoxmd  structure  of  which  this  is  the  initial  syllable;  yet 
scarcely  more  than  one-half  of  these  are  probably  extant  in  the 
writings  of  eminent  English  authors,  unless  they  are  employed, 
as  80  many  compounds  were  in  the  Greek  literature,  for  comic 
purposes. 

Unwisdom  and  Unreason  are  examples  of  compounds,  not 
good  English,  to  the  use  of  which  the  pulpit  is  specially  prone 


APPENDIX. 

The  style  of  some  preachers  seems  to  be  constructed  on  the  theory 
that  any  word  which  is  pure  English  may  give  birth  to  its  oppo- 
site by  prefixing  the  negative  prefix  "  un." 

V. 

Variatk  is  corrupt  English  for  "vary."  In  New  England  may 
be  sometimes  heard  in  prayer  the  petition,  "  Do  thou  variate  thy 
mercies,"  etc. 

w. 

Wa8  for  Were. — Many  cultivated  men  and  women  have  not 
learned  the  simple  law  of  grammar  which  forbids  the  phrase  "  You 
was,"  and  the  interrogative,  "  "Was  you  ?  "  I  have  heard  a  college- 
p"aduate  say  that  he  was  a  senior  in  college  before  he  was  taught 
the  correct  process. 

Were  for  Was  is  a  still  more  inexcusable  corruption,  because  it 
is  commonly  an  affectation.  People  whose  aspirations  after  the 
name  of  culture  exceed  their  acquisitions,  often  have  a  hazy  idea 
that  something  is  wrong  in  certain  uses  of  the  word  "  was,"  and 
that  "  were "  is  at  any  rate  more  literary.  Therefore  one  says 
"  When  I  were  in  New  York ;  "  and  another  responds,  "  I  were  in 
Europe  then."  Probably  the  error  has  grown  out  of  a  confusion  of 
the  indicative  with  the  subjunctive  mood.  Because  it  is  often 
wrong  to  say,  "  If  I  was,"  some  adopt  "  I  were  "  for  the  indicative, 
when  they  strain  to  be  very  accurate.  When  they  think  nothing 
about  their  style,  they  probably  talk  good  English,  and  say,  "  I  was." 

By  the  directions  of  the  older  grammarians  we  were  required  to 
say,  "If  I  were,  if  he  were,"  etc.,  wherever  the  subjunctive  was 
used ;  that  is,  the  "  past  tense  "  of  the  subjunctive  was  not  recog- 
nized. Usage  broke  over  that  rule  long  before  the  grammarians 
saw  the  necessity  for  doing  so.  The  first  authority  for  it  which 
attracted  my  attention  was  Lord  Macaulay.  No  grammar  which 
had  then  come  to  my  notice  contained  it. 

Whole  for  All  is  a  very  frequent  corruption  in  the  writings  of 
Alison  the  historian.  He  speaks  of  "the  whole  citizens  of  the 
State."  How  many  fragments  of  citizens  were  there?  Alison's 
History  is  a  splendid  thesaurus  of  illustrations  of  bad  English. 

Worldly-mindedness  is  another  of  the  long-eared  barbarisms 
of  the  pulpit.     Is  not  *'  a  worldly  mind  "  expressive  of  the  whole 


APPENDIX.  887 

idea?    TetWalter  Scott  would  not  have  been  offended  byit,  M 
he  says  he  was  by  the  style  of  the  Methodist  pulpit. 

Would  Seem  and  Should  Seem.  —  For  what  reason  I  do  not 
know,  usage  prescribes  the  second  of  these  phrases,  and  not  the 
first.  Yet  it  admits  the  phrase  "would  appear."  Whether  a  dis- 
tinction apparently  so  causeless  can  hold  its  place  in  the  language 
remains  to  be  seen. 


In  closing  this  catalogue,  let  me  add  a  note  in  answer  to 
the  inquiry,  "What  are  the  best  English  grammars  for  a 
preacher's  table  ?  "  Brown's  "  Grammar  of  English  Gram- 
.mars  "  is  a  compendium  of  a  variety  of  grammatical  authori- 
ties, and  is  valuable  for  a  comparison  of  them.  But,  for 
ordinary  use  upon  one's  study-table,  the  best  grammars  are 
the  most  elementary.  For  years  after  my  own  ministry 
began,  I  found  none  superior  to  Lindley  Murray,  who  taught 
our  fathers  to  speak  and  write  their  mother- tongue.  Of  late 
years  smaller  and  better  works  have  appeared,  among  which 
those  of  Wells  and  Greene  and  Swinton  hold  high  rank. 

You  will  find  that  the  practical  queries  which  you  need  a 
grammar  to  answer  are,  the  major  part  of  them,  elementary 
queries.  Nobody  learns  to  talk  good  English  from  the  study 
of  grammars  alone.  We  learn  it  from  prolonged  associatioa 
with  people  of  culture.  Many  have  not  had  that  in  early 
life :  therefore  errors  have  crept  into  their  colloquial  style, 
and  from  that  into  their  written  style,  which  now  they  must 
appeal  to  their  grammars  to  correct ;  and  the  majority  of 
them  are  elementary.  They  are  such  as  any  standard  gram- 
mar will  correct.  Therefore  I  advise  every  young  preacher, 
first  to  keep  for  consultation  the  English  grammar  which  he 
studied  in  his  youth.  His  familiarity  with  that  makes  it 
more  valuable  to  him  than  a  better  one  to  which  he  is  a 
stranger.  No  other  Greek  or  Latin  grammar  is  so  valuable 
to  you  as  those  in  which  you  first  learned  the  Greek  or  Latin 
language.  The  same  is  true  of  our  vernacular  grammars. 
Then  add  to  the  grammar  of  your  youth  one  or  more  of  the 


388  APPENDIX. 

later  school  text-books;  and,  of  these,  any  one  of  a  half- 
dozen  is  as  good  as  another  for  the  jurpose  you  have  in 
view. 

For  the  more  elaborate  study  of  grammar  as  a  science, 
and  historically,  Latham's  and  Maetzner's  works  are  the 
best.  Latham's  is  the  original  of  Fowler's,  and  of  several 
others  of  more  recent  date.  Maetzner's  is  a  German  work, 
not,  so  far  as  I  know,  translated.  But,  for  practical  refer- 
ence in  your  professional  labors,  neither  is  as  good  as  a  good 
high-school  text-book. 

I  venture  to  recommend,  especially  to  those  of  you  who 
are  to  labor  in  foreign  missions,  the  continuance  of  this  class 
of  philological  and  rhetorical  studies  in  which  we  have  been 
engaged.  No  other  study,  in  my  judgment,  so  easily  keeps 
alive,  and  keeps  in  healthy  growth,  the  spirit  of  scholarly 
culture.  One  of  the  chief  perils  which  foreign  missionaries 
encounter,  as  they  inform  me,  is  that  of  a  decline  in  their 
mental  culture.  They  are  surrounded  often  by  a  mass  of 
stagnant  mind.  Generally  they  live  among  minds  inferior  to 
their  own  in  culture.  Their  professional  work  is  largely  ele- 
mentary. In  that,  therefore,  they  do  not  find  intellectual 
pressure.  Even  their  teaching  is  chiefly  of  that  character. 
A  theological  professor  in  a  missionary  seminary  can  not 
teach  theology  as  it  is  taught  in  American  schools.  He 
would  not  be  understood  if  he  did.  He  must  simplify  and 
popularize ;  and  many  topics  he  can  not  discuss  at  all. 
They  are  above  the  mental  level  Cif  his  hearers. 

Unless,  therefore,  a  missionary  is  sm  rounded  by  a  culti- 
vated English  society,  as  in  Constantinople  and  in  Calcutta, 
which  interests  itself  sufficiently  in  missions  to  welcome  him 
socially  and  to  literary  clubs,  he  is  in  peril  of  subsiding  to 
the  mental  level  of  the  necessity  which  his  work  lays  upon 
him.  The  natural  law  of  all  culture  is  to  meet  necessities, 
and  no  more.  "We  do  in  intellectual  training  and  acquisition 
what  we  must  do.  We  rise  to  our  work  if  that  is  intel- 
lectually above  us:  we  fall  to  its  plane  if  it  is  below  us. 


APPENDIX.  889 

Such  is  nature's  law.  We  are  superior  to  it  only  by  early 
foresight  and  force  of  will. 

One  of  the  most  eminent  and  highly  educated  American 
missionaries  once  told  me,  that  the  single  privation  and  peril 
which  overtopped  all  others  in  his  missionary  life  was  not 
expatriation,  nor  physical  nor  social  hardship,  nor  the  want 
of  spiritual  success,  but  the  constant  pressure  of  intellectual 
stagnation,  crowding  down  the  aspirations  of  his  youth.  In- 
cessant contact  with  dead  and  dying  intellect  was  almost 
fatal  to  his  own  intellectual  life.  He  felt  nothing  else  so 
sadly  on  his  return  to  this  country,  after  an  absence  of  thirty 
years,  as  the  difference  in  that  respect  between  his  own  ex- 
perience and  that  of  his  collegiate  and  theological  classmates. 
Yet  he  had  spent  his  life  in  one  of  the  most  stimulating  mis- 
sions of  the  East. 

To  offset  that  tendency  to  mental  stagnation,  every  mis- 
sionary, in  my  judgment,  needs  some  one  purely  intellectual 
pursuit  which  shall  be  above  the  level,  and  shall  lift  him  at 
times  above  the  level,  of  his  missionary  labor.  Some  may 
find  it  in  the  study  of  philosophy ;  others,  in  that  of  the  an- 
cient classics ;  others,  ia  general  English  literature.  Every 
missionary  needs  some  such  intellectual  life-preserver  to  pre- 
vent his  sinking  to  the  plane  of  the  national  mind  around 
him.  One  of  the  most  fascinating  and  easily  prosecuted 
'"tudies  of  that  kind  is  that  of  English  literature,  pursued 
with  a  scholarly  eye  to  the  structure  and  the  growth  of  the 
English  language. 


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